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Constant

"You flew well out there," Marcus said, nodding to the stadium.

Oliver startled, surprised to find that he wasn't alone. He eyed Flint cautiously and curiously, wondering what on earth his former rival could possibly want.

"You know, I was always jealous of you at school. Do you remember the first match we faced each other?"

Oliver nodded, a small smile on his face.

The thrill of his first game was running through him as he circled the hoops. So far, he'd saved four and let none through, and the Captain was smiling proudly at him.

It was a beautiful day, perfect conditions.

Green flashed in front of his eyes, and he moved to the middle of the hoops, ready to block.

The player in green feinted.

The quaffle soared left as Oliver flew right.

The smirking face of Marcus Flint was the only thing left in Oliver's mind as the rest of the Gryffindor team celebrated their win.

"You were the first person to ever score against me," Oliver replied. "I hated you for that."

"I might've scored one goal, Oliver, but damn you made me work for it."

Oliver smiled again. "What are you doing here, Marcus?"

"I've watched every match you've played, Oliver. I was hardly going to miss your first professional match, was I?"

Marcus swallowed nervously. Oliver always made his emotions seem stronger.

"Fucking Wood, thinking he's so fucking clever, sauntering around just because he thinks he has the best team," Marcus seethed in the Common room. "He's needs taking down a peg or two."

"What are you gonna do, Flint?"

A few days later, and Flint grabbed the bat from one of his beaters, nailing Oliver in the stomach. The satisfaction lasted as long as it took for Wood to pale.

Marcus tried to ignore the guilt as he flew at the goals with the Quaffle. He had a match to win.

"I never thanked you, did I?" Oliver asked after a moment.

"For what?" Marcus asked, feigning ignorance.

"You know exactly for what," Oliver replied.

He had to protect the pitch. It was the place at Hogwarts he'd always felt most comfortable, most at home. He should have thought to bring his broom.

As he fought with everything in him, he felt hands on his back, shoving him to the ground, just in time for a green light to whizz past his head. He looked up in time to see Marcus send a spell back in the direction the light had come from, before he punched another who'd been getting a little too close.

When Marcus saw the disbelief in Olivers face, he snorted.

"This was my home too, Wood."

"Thank you for saving my life."

Marcus nodded slowly. "You'd have done the same thing."

Oliver nodded, because it was truth. The darkness of Voldemort had had a way of banding together the most unusual of people.

"Dinner?" Marcus offered.

Oliver hesitated, looking at the hand Marcus was holding out to him, and then he grinned.

"You're buying."

Marcus scoffed. "You're the professional, you can pay."

The two left the stadium, bickering.

All was as it should be.

Written for;

Showtime - 13. So Big / So Small - (style) Flashback

Buttons - MarcusOliver

Yule Ball - 7. A rivalry.

WC, Book Club - Gaia: darkness, hitting someone, rivals

Stickers - Slytherin - Bloody Baron - Jealousy

Dragon Appreciation Challenge - WC - 525

Writing Month - WC - 525