Fan Fiction ❯ And She Was Standing There ❯ One-Shot

Title: "And She Was Standing There"
Author name: Ishida Miyako
Author email: ladykhayman@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: This is my great, pathetic whackin' attempt at a Harry Potter fanfic. I had only read up to PoA so do not flame me for my ignorance. Also, I've tweaked characters ages to fit this story, so it's slight Alternative Universe. Fan fiction, the films, and other HP fansites have made up the difference. Cheers!

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He simply doesn't get it.

For nearly a year I have kept my silence on that little matter, all in the name of friendship mind you. I have been standing here in the Astronomy Tower watching that lot on the pitch for the past two hours, observing them. I have to put these damned omnoculars down 'cos me arms are startin' to kill me. No I've little interest in the Neanderthal, chock-full-of cheating stratagem that the Slytherin Quidditch team has utilized again and again since time began seemingly. No, I'm just watching that little blonde dot in the Slytherin professor's grandstands. Of all places for her to sit. No self-respecting Griffindor would be out there patiently watching and waiting for their practice to end. But I know she'd only turned up in the last 20 minutes or so and she's only waiting for HIM.

Katie Bell and I are just more than housemates and chasers, we're Quidditch sisters and I'll not exclude Alicia, of course. But there are certain things that our Miss Spinnet simply cannot keep a lid on- and this is one fucker of a doozey. I've known Bell since the moment we stepped on the boats on the way to this bewitched rock clinging to each other for support as Terry Boot who happened to be the one sitting behind us clung to the lantern for protection. He's scared shitless of the dark. When Alicia joined us a bit later after we'd been sorted into Griffindor an accidental common bond branching out in the form of Quidditch began. The two great loves of Katie Bell's life were the quaffle and a certain daft Scotch badger, who'd also been in the boat with us, his big nose stuck in Quidditch Throughout the Ages. If you hadn't noticed I'm really bein' a bitch to Oliver at the moment. I have to remember that things happen for a reason, not accidentally especially when dealing with matters of the wizarding world. And I'm very sorry Headmaster Dumbledore, but I am really beginning to lose faith in your bit of grandfatherly advice no matter how pure your intentions are.

But it's really all his fault, bloody Wood! I mean for the past seven prapping years Katie's been dropping hints left and right, trying to make herself noticed short of Apparating naked with a bottle of chocolate sauce on his bed! But instead she'd made a near fool of herself due to his single-track Quidditch mind. It had vexed her to tears where she had broken down after a game in the showers, and conveniently we had lost that game to them, seemingly giving her good reason to fall apart. But you know as well as I that Katie never cries. She'd never give that lot the satisfaction, especially… Flint.

There! I sodding said it, and you can't make me do it again so bugger off! But then I forget that I'm chatting with the walls and trying to protect Katie's virtue. Yeah right. Gotta get back to my omnoculars now…. let's see what's doing with the members of the scaly kind. Oh dear Gods! She's coming down… no wait that stupid git's swinging round to pick her up. She's slid onto the back of his gorgeous chrome-plated Jet Stream 8000 (did I mention how much I despise Lucious Malfoy?) all right , despite these plopping robes and they're all coming in for a landing. I know, this is Katie's call and hers alone, so why am I playing amateur Rita Skeeter? Because I despise Marcus Flint. We all despise that bleeding house, so why did she cross the line? Frustrations? Betrayal? Deception? Teen-age witch bad boy phase? Try all of the damned above. And there she is, her arms lovingly wrapped round his thick midsection, no not fat quite fit, actually. He's a burly bloke built more like a keeper than chaser. But he loves the speed, and his troll-blooded strength gave him the necessary edge to do well in this sport. I imagine he would have been more popular with the girls if it weren't for his grotesque overbite and overall undesirable personality. But a bludger to the kisser during what would have been a glorious summer last year if he hadn't failed the N.E.W.T.s and graduated at a proper time had improved on the former of his drawbacks. When Flint, Malfoy, and the rest of the slimy turds had crashed the party held at Brill Inn*, owned by Oliver's Aunt Wendy** and Uncle Ian McLeod last July (assuming that the team busted Flint out of his summer-long lock down for the night), we literally didn't recognise him.

Aside from the fact that those hypocritical prats were dressed in Muggle clothing (Armani, Fubu, Ralph Lauren to name a few) and dared to even portkey themselves to the moors just outside of Glasgow and show their faces in one of the oldest wizarding communities in Scotland whose loyalties to Albus Dumbledore was unquestionable and they've all but canonized Lily and James Potter.

Typical! They barged right in, Malfoy shooting his mouth off full force and Flint grinning so smugly like he'd just won the pools, I don't care how good he looked in the leather jacket***- did I just say that? DAMN! DAMN! Bad libido! Bad, bad! This whole bad boy fixation must be contagious or something. We nearly averted a confrontation between Flint and Oliver, but it was Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy we were more concerned about. It was good thing Ron was still floating about the place after deliberately eating a box of Fizzing Whizbees. Both 13-year-olds were armed with their wands and were prepared to use them despite Ron's compromised situation, but Mr. McLeod had almost blown the roof off the dining room with an Eruptio spell. Miss Wendy was none too pleased, but he was within his wherewithal so she let it slide. Despite the hit-and-miss disasters at the party, Miss Wendy seriously stressed civility and invited the idiots to stay and they agreed. The party tentatively regrouped and the band took up their instruments on the makeshift stage to begin the second set. We however, got to work. Oliver scribbled on a bit of parchment from behind the bar and wrapped it round an icy larger, to which he gave to Katie to give to the lead vocalist. That barking, nutty lot were a bunch of wizarding student drop-outs, now pursuing their musical aspirations that Oliver grew up and occasionally jammed with. How was I supposed to know that he was positively corking on the guitar and could sing?

Soon the place was roaring with this deafening, screeching noise masquerading as music. I reckon it was called 'The Dog Show'****, or some shit. This song was to accomplish either one of two things: a diversion for the Slytherin team as we made our escape to plot, or totally piss them off into leaving. In which case option one is not needed. Well the outcome was split, they were pissed but made no plans to leave. Although later on we hypothesized that they were pissed over the "poor-quality" liquor and other drinks they were served. We flew upstairs to Mr. McLeod's office so we could conduct our business with a degree of privacy. The twins had brought a veritable arsenal of familiar pranks from Zonko's such as dung bombs and Filibuster's Fireworks as well as some of their patented Weasley creations. Alicia suggested we challenge them to some Quidditch, as a pitch was a 10 minute walk from the inn. We ignored Ron's loud insistences that we just hack off Malfoy's and the others' heads and owl them to their families. Katie had mysteriously vanished from Oliver's side where she usually would be, and I grew considerably concerned. Oliver, being the absolutely bang on leader he is told us to simmer down and (of course) agreed with Alicia's plan, should the bastards try anything. 20 minutes had passed and Katie did not make a reappearance, now I could allow myself to panic. What had happened within those 20 minutes I cannot say until this day, 'cos she has kept mum about it. Where she was I was about to find out.

When we ran back down to the party we passed one of the waitresses, a witch named Sadie McDermott. My best bet was if she were on the floor in the last hour she'd seen Katie pass through.

'Sadie?'

'Yeah?' she asked sticking pencils in her hair to anchor her rather messy bun. 'What's wrong, Angelina?'

'Um, have you seen Katie at all? She's gone missing. I mean she was up there with us just a few minutes ago…'

'Oh! She just popped into the kitchens for some tea. Relaxing her nerves she said.'

'Thanks a tonne!' I couldn't run fast enough, but when I'd got there I wished I had been run over a stampeding herd of hippogriffs. There they were, Katie seated on the counter arms and legs wrapped around Marcus Flint. I could see he had one hand up under her blouse, and the other tangled in her hair. Both were viciously trading tongues. I don't know how long I stood in the swinging doorway until I found my voice. 'W- WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!!!' The couple broke apart, Katie clearly affronted by her actions meanwhile Flint flashed me his new winning smile. His newly constructed upper row made of dragon's vertebrae, the strongest material used for artificial dental implants in the wizarding world. 50 bludgers could get him in the face and his pearly whites' enamel wouldn't even be scratched. 'Kates…?'

'Honestly Angelina… I don't know.' Her face was so flushed, you'd think she'd raced her broom twice round the globe in less than a minute.

'Well maybe she finally woke up and realised where the real men are!' Flint that great, hulking prat had balls all right. 'Don't knock it 'till you've tried it, Johnson.' By the look of Katie's face, which was a contortion of anxiety and regret Flint only pulled her closer to him and smiled seductively. He kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear before slinking out. The rest of the Slytherins departed with him, thank Merlin. When the party wound down Katie portkeyed back to London with me where she spent the night at my house- not that I'd let her sleep, no way in Salazar's hell! After placing a muting charm on my bedroom walls I shouted Bloody Mary at her, threatened to box her ears, hex her into the next century, report her to the Aurors, and finally she broke.

I sat down on the floor in front of her and questioned her nicely. Why did she leave the office? How long had this been going on? Did Flint force himself on her? Apparently she left because she felt the drama on the pitch should remain there, and the Slytherins knew that we were too thick realise that and we'd play straight into their hands. As for what happened in the kitchens, Katie went as far as telling that she was indeed making tea when she turned around Flint appeared. He was being rude in an unsuccessful attempt to incite her, then one thing led to another and that's how I found them in a compromising position. But the worst was yet to come.

'I've given up on Oliver.'

Just like that. Bye-bye Ollie-bollie! I suppose it has its merits. After almost seven years of not being noticed off the Quidditch pitch, it was time to let go. Oh well, Griffindor's golden couple award will have to wait until Potter comes round off his blind as a prat attitude and look in Hermione's direction. What does the poor girl have to do? Wave a huge sign reading: "I FANCY YOU HARRY POTTER"? They're 13 yet, so they have all the time in the world. And it's a definite that Malfoy and Granger hate one another, so I doubt there'll be another Slytherin interference. So why Flint? When the new term started, by all appearances everything was normal. The Slytherins ignored everybody and the other three houses got on fine. Another D.A.D.A. instructor was brought on, Professor Lupin he's the one best yet, and the Quidditch season began. Katie was the newly appointed Head Girl and attended weekly meetings with her partner Head Boy Calvin Hutchison, the single biggest ned in the universe. He'd come to fetch her after a practice showing up unexpectedly in the locker rooms. To clarify it was the lounge between the girls and boys' showers so get your head out of the gutters! It was a normal occurrence, so none of the team thought anything of it. But I knew better. I stayed around making an excuse about an earring gone missing, so when everybody cleared out I was sure to position myself by the doorway to listen for any unusual activity in the corridors. Sure enough, I heard voices. Way down into the depths was the Slytherin locker rooms, you'll know it when the temperature suddenly dips a bit and feel a draft up your robes. Don't worry it's even worse when you approach the corridors that lead to their dungeons.

As expected, dressed in his cyan Quidditch robes stood Flint towering over a refreshed Katie in her Hogwarts robes. They were in the middle of a rather heated conversation, it gave no indication that it would get violent or at the very least, loud. I couldn't make out what they were saying because it was muffled and I'm a poor lip reader. If Flint was taunting Katie she would have been giving him lip mercilessly as she'd always done, and end it with a right hook to the chin. She was playing with the Head Girl cap, a sign which meant her uneasiness. Flint's face was neutral. By his profile I could see that his brows were knit as many a time I'd see him meticulously construct his team's Quidditch plays. His tone was grave, not angry and was only like this when he was actually being serious. This continued for a few minutes until Katie raised her voice, flailing her arms, ready to burst into tears once more. There was this great culmination of passion within her, that with all of the stresses she was suffering after so long came to a head when she shouted: 'WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME MARCUS?!!'

He tossed his broom to the sandstone floor when he threw his arms around Katie and kissed her. Flint had her against the wall, but I don't believe it was anything sexual- not yet anyway. Having gone up against him on the pitch, Katie knew better than to fight Flint with his prodigious strength. She did so in vain by pushing at his shoulder, Flint just took her hand and laced her fingers with his. Intimate. From the looks of it it was painful for Flint to pull away from her. 'That's what I want from you, Kathryn.' Not Bell. Not Griffindork. Not you bleeding harpy. But Kathryn. I know that Slytherins have this obsession with the addressing by proper names penchant, being that the majority of them hail from upper-class families so protocol is everything. But I think it's their way of forming relationships, the only way they know how. Marcus and Katie crossed the line, he wanted this and so did she. I have to trust in Katie because she knows the risks that are being taken for this kind of relationship. And they both know what the reaction of their parents will be after graduation. Especially Justus Flint, Lucious Malfoy's right hand man.

If rumours are true (and I'm only going by what George and Fred have told us), then this upcoming summer will be life-altering for Flint. He's the oldest of the Quidditch team, and if he's to be given The Mark who knows what they could do to Katie. So why Flint? In a sick, twisted, roundabout way, Flint has given Katie his undivided attention for the last seven years. Six of which mostly consisted of violent hair pulling during games, verbal badinage in the classrooms and corridors, and good old-fashioned harassment. How were the humans to know that that was the troll way of saying "I fancy you"? His team finally figured it out just after Malfoy was brought on as seeker. It was speculated that the reason why Terrence Higgs, who is Slytherin Head Boy, was pushed back to reservist was because of the new equipment Lucius Malfoy purchased for the team. It was true, to a degree. On the other hand it was well known that back in fourth year Higgs fancied Katie, and that she is friends with him. Truth be told, if Higgs were to pursue Katie we probably wouldn't raise many objections considering we still don't know why the bloke was sorted into Slytherin anyhow. He has a rather upbeat disposition, as opposed to the signature Slytherin moroseness. Higgs was quite amicable to the other house members, until he got onto the Quidditch pitch. Flint knew that it would be sudden death if he pummeled Higgs into the ground for no good reason as any outsider would have interpreted it. But admitting to being in love with the enemy was a fate worse than death. So he played his hand wisely, and waited it out. Nothing came of the crush, due to lack of spine on Higgs' part and Katie was becoming more accessible because she was being enrolled in the advanced classes where older students attended.

The only obstacle left was Wood. Rather Katie's obstinacy on her feelings concerning Wood was the real buffer. But Katie was a clever witch, and he'd bet his inheritance that she'd get a rude awakening. Did she ever! I'll stop here, it does no good for an outsider to tell their story. I've just left the tower and Katie and Flint are lingering in the courtyard, he's lounging on the fountain and she's standing before him clutching his hand. They're chatting quietly, it's kind of sweet in a stomach-turning sort of way. It's orchestrated quite well actually, the only ones who know about them are his team and me. The deception is carried out eloquently they ignore one another during classes and meals, spare no brutality on the pitch so Katie's game isn't affected (she has admitted that it's a huge turn-on), and since Flint is forbidden from entering Griffindor Tower Katie goes to the dungeons as I so graciously cover for her in the dead of night. No need to ask what they're up to- I'm no virgin, and frankly it's quite insulting. Gods! Those two can stretch their oxygen supply like no wizarding couple I know! Flint's practically on his knees now. I'll be on call tonight… or not. It seems as if Lady Katie will be taking a rain check on dinner, and judging by Sir Flint's catty smirk he'll not be complainin'. As soon as they departed for the privacy of Flint's dormitory I was just about to call it a day myself when Oliver materialized under the arches. He was leaning against a column when he looked my way and nodded. It held a air of finality, then he turned on his heel and walked to the Great Hall.

I think he just got it.

END

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(A/N: Some footnotes: *- Brill Studios is where Crambo records and rehearses, info obtained from totallyseanbiggerstaff.com. **- Sean Biggerstaff has an Aunt Wendy, info obtained from seanbiggerstaff.com. ***-Go to marcusflint.com and click on the wonderful pics Jamie Yeates has so graciously donated- GO NOW! ****- 'The Dog Show' is one of Crambo's songs you can download them from kazaa.com and the "that barking, nutty lot of wizarding student drop-outs" is supposed to be Crambo- this is not a personal slight to the band!)