"I don't believe it."

Flint, at least, had the decency to look uncomfortable. He leaned back, rubbing his elbows, and shrugged. "Well, it's true. You're off the team. We've got a new Seeker, and-"

"And what? There was nobody last year better than me, and I'll bet there's nobody this year, either! Who is it? If it's someone that tried out last year and didn't make it, please, tell me their training regimen, because obviously they've improved tenfold."

Terence Higgs had a good idea of what Flint was going to say before he said it. He didn't want to believe that he'd been usurped by a second-year, but from the look on Flint's face, it couldn't be anything but that. He wanted Flint to say it, though. He wanted Flint to say that he'd picked a second-year out of the slush pile to replace the Seeker he'd been playing with for years. The person he'd been friends with.

"Why?" Terence asked. "I just want to know why. And then I want to go kill whoever it is, and take my spot back.

"Well, I wasn't going to tell you, because the team isn't any of your business anymore," Flint said. He leaned forward, and if Terence hadn't heard this boy snoring every night for the past six years, he'd be intimidated. "But if you have to know, his father's bought us all new brooms. And-"

"New brooms?" Terence said. He laughed, pressing his palm against his forehead. "My God, Flint, you can't tell me you think that'll make you win. You know what will make you win? A good Seeker. I would've beat Potter last year if he hadn't choked on the fucking thing, and I've been practicing, so-"

"I don't care what you think about it! You're not on the team!"

Terence ignored him. "Oh, who could it be? Let me think. Let me think. Shouldn't be that hard, aren't too many second-years whose father can buy the entire Quidditch team new brooms. It's the Malfoy kid. It's that little blond prick and I'm going to go shove his head in a boiling cauldron."

Flint shook his head and turned to leave, and Terence realized that he was actually being completely serious. He guessed that he'd known it before, but it hadn't quite hit him until just now – and now Flint was leaving, and Terence was going to lose everything. Just Quidditch, sure – but he had been the best Slytherin Seeker in years, he'd nearly beat Charlie Weasley a few times, he'd been contacted by several teams over the years and it all rode on his seventh year. If he didn't get to play, he didn't get a future.

If he didn't get to play, he'd be stuck in some Ministry job until he killed himself.

He grabbed Flint's arm. "Please – Marcus, please-" he said, and Marcus Flint paused. "-you know how much I need to play this year. Next year, next year I'll be gone. Can't the kid wait another year? He'll be better then, too, and I'm not saying he's not good now, but he just doesn't have – doesn't have the experience, and I need to play this year, Marcus. I need to-"

"It's Malfoy, not you," Flint said. "That's how it is."

Terence Higgs was suddenly, violently angry. "Oh, right," he said, letting go of Flint's arm. "Am I too good? The Higgs family was never quite Death Eater material. Strictly middle-of-the-road, us. Slytherin, pureblood, but not quite important for him to want. The Malfoys, though – must be-"

And then there was a wand in his face. Terence looked between the wand and Flint's face. He didn't know if Flint would do it (though if he did, it would probably go horribly wrong and he'd end up with something a lot more painful than what was intended), but at the moment, he didn't quite care.

"Do it," he said. He laughed. "Come one. Jinx me, hex me, why not throw out an Unforgivable? C'mon, Flint, let's see if you-"

Flint stashed his wand away and punched Terence Higgs in the face. Terence stumbled back a few paces, his hand going up to touch his brow. His fingers came away bloody. The damn fool had split his eyebrow open. Flint grabbed the front of Terence's robes and shoved him up against the wall, and Terence flinched – just a little, but enough to curse himself for.

"It's over," Flint said. His teeth were clenched and his eyes were narrowed and Terence had the strong idea that if he didn't keep his mouth shut, he'd likely be really hurt. He didn't think that Flint would use his wand, but only because he didn't think that Flint could really trust his magic – with old pureblood families, especially ones like Flint's, all the inbreeding could dilute the magic. "You're not on the team. Draco Malfoy is. And if you keep talking about it, you'll be in the Hospital Wing."

Terence met his eyes and didn't say anything else. Flint dropped him and turned, and Terence had to bite his tongue to stop himself from shouting something after him.

…

Oliver Wood was late for Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was walking with his eyes in front of him, not really seeing anything, going over new plays in his head, when he ran straight into something. Both of them stumbled away from each other, and Oliver caught Slytherin robes, a bloody face, and red eyes before Terence Higgs kept walking.

Class forgotten, Oliver shouted after him. "Hey, Higgs! We'll beat you this year, better than last. I can promise that!"

Higgs paused, and Oliver saw his hands clenched into tight fists.

"You know what, Wood?" Higgs said. His voice was quiet, quieter than usual – he'd never really been a real loudmouth, but he was a normal guy. Now he just sounded mad. "I really hope you do."

So, I'm re-reading the series, and it occurred to me – what happened to the Slytherin Seeker from the first book? He could have graduated, sure, but I like to think that he just got passed over and got all angry because man WHAT IF HE HAD A FUTURE? WHAT IF HE COULD HAVE REALLY BEEN SOMETHING IN THE QUIDDITCH WORLD?

So, yeah, also debated making this a multi-chapter in which Wood helps Higgs and everything but I've got too much on my plate right now so it's just a little oneshot.