Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.

Author's Note: I don't know the exact years of all the members of the Slytherin quidditch team and the looks of the more minother little details like that so please bare with me ;; this is also a bit AU takes place in Oliver's seventh year.

Chapter One: The New Serpent Beater

Oliver Wood, the quidditch-obsessed, captain of the Gryffindor team was one very happy man. No, he wasn't happy, he was ecstatic and he wasn't alone. The entire quidditch team had witnessed Montague, the better of Flint's two beaters, get knocked off his broom by one of the bludgers Gryffindor had been using during their practice, which ended just before Slytherin had stepped onto the field. It had been an accident really, Oliver was trying to adjust the clasp when the bludger got free and went zooming off. But the fact still remained, Montague was in a sling and the Slytherins were short a beater. What made it even sweeter for Oliver, was that their first game of the year was in exactly one week and against, yes you guessed it, Slytherin.

By the next morning, the news had spread through the entire school of Slytherin's predicament. All the members of the Gryffindor quidditch team waltzed into the Great Hall with uncharacteristically smug smirks on their faces. They were greeted by sneers from ever face at the Slytherin table. Oliver flashed Flint a cheeky Scottish grin and player gave their personal rivals a silent taunt.

"I want to rip that smile right off of that bastard's face," Graham Montague growled, clenching his right fist.

"Who? Wood or the Weasleys?" I said calmly while taking a bit of my bagel. I too am a Montague, Graham's twin sister to be exact, also in sixth year just for your information. I have thick brown hair like my brother except it is a fair deal longer and cleaner. My grey eyes are as cool as my words in the morning, I get sarcastic later on in the day.

"Who do you think, Morgana," Graham said stretching out my full name. Morgana is a bit of a tedious name. I prefer Morgan but it does have a bit of a dramatic effect. I rolled my eyes at him. "The Scottish bastard that put me in this sling!" he practically shouted in my ear.

"Okay, okay I get it," I said flatly.

"So Flint," Kevin Bletchley said to the team captain who happened to be seated next to me, "is the plan still the same for next week's game?"

"Oh yes," Marcus said stretching an arm over my shoulders. "Wood will never see it coming." Marcus smiled at me in a way only slytherins can. Slytherin's smiles are either creepy, cunning or suggestive, this one was the latter. Marcus may have teeth like a troll but to his credit, they were sparkling clean and some charms over the summer made them a bit straighter. Still, that doesn't mean I liked him looking at me like that.

"Is the potion almost done?" Adrian Pucey asked me.

"Yeah," I said, shrugging Marcus's arm off. Adrian smirked. I looked over to the Gryffindor table and saw that part Wood staring my way. I looked to my right and soon realized he was in a sneering contest with Marcus. I often bore witness to this and found it quite pointless. Marcus always won, his teeth were his champion. "Stop flirting with Wood, Marcus," I grumbled. I am not a morning person, actually, that is a lie, I can do mornings, I am just cranky.

Marcus immediately shot me a venomous look. "You better be as good as Montague says you are . . . Montague."

"Lovely," I muttered before I got up. "For your information, Flint,"I said sharply, "I do believe you have seen me play before but if you would like a preview, hold still while I break your jaw."

It irritates me how being in Slytherin, you are surrounded by people who react to things the same way you do. Marcus smirked at me. So I swallowed my anger and summoned a straight face and walked away. I glanced at the Gryffindor table, I find it interesting how none of them knew who I was. I even sat next to that one chaser . . . Bell, in potions. Even though I didn't pay attention to her, I expect in the back of the mind that she would notice who I was. Maybe it is a Slytherin thing to know or want to know more than you should about everyone around you.

The quidditch game against Gryffindor arrived in what seemed like the blink of an eye. I had dressed myself in my brother's robes by the time the rest of the team entered the locker rooms. Everyone had their game sneers on, including me. "Where's the potion?" Flint asked. For some reason, referring to him as Marcus seemed inappropriate for this time in the afternoon, especially during a quidditch game.

"I am waiting til the last possible moment," I said coolly. "I don't want to waste any." My hair was tucked into a bun so that I wouldn't shock people right away if the game went over an hour.

He didn't respond, which told me he understood my point. He proceeded to give us a pep talk. At the end he looked at me and said, "And Montague, if you don't do well. You are off the team."

I knew he was lying but humored him all the same by smirking in reply. Funny how a smirk in slytherin says all.

Everyone stood up and grabbed there brooms. I took the vile filled with the Polyjuice potion and quickly said bottoms up before downing it. I didn't want to give myself too much time to dwell on the taste. I grabbed my bat and took my place at the port with the rest of the team. I had to bite my tongue as I felt familiar things disappear underneath my robes and change into less comfortable organs, or in one case, more comfortable. Though I silently wondered why I decided to wear a bra anyway.

"Bell! Johnson! Spinnett! Potter! Weasley! Weasley! Annnnnnd . . . Wood!" a Gryffindor kid by the name of Lee Jordan shouted out over the loudspeaker. He was an annoying prat whom I had tried to hex a couple times. Not because of what he called my brother or that one comment about why no Slytherin girls were on the team (A/N: I made that up for good measure) but because I had an ear ache after every game. Let me repeat the word 'tried'. I always end up hitting that Neville kid on the other side of the teachers' seats.

I watched the Gryffindors fly up into the air, jeering their hands over their heads like they had already won the match. At least that kid, Princely Potter or whoever it is Draco bitches about, was the most humble of the group. But that doesn't mean I won't try to get a bludger to decapitate him.

"Bletchley! Bole! Flint! Higgs! Malfoy! Pucey! Annnnnnd . . . Montague?!" I snickered to myself at the surprise in the guy's voice and I downright chuckled at the expressions on the faces of the Gryffindor team.

We sailed up into the air and did our round about the pitch. All the members of the opposite team were gawking at me.

"What?" Johnson said.

"How?" Bell's jaw dropped.

But it was Wood's expression that I treasured. He stared at me like I was a ghost. I had to remind myself that I looked like my brother. "But-Montague?-How?" his confusion was soon replaced with anger. I knew what he was thinking. Something along the lines of my brother cheated, got a healing potion or something. I glanced at the actual Graham Montague who was laughing his ass off underneath his cloak.

Both teams settled on the ground. "Now I want a nice, clean game from both of your teams," Madame Hooch said and forced Flint and Wood to shake hands. It is amusing how Flint always has this expression on his face like touching Wood is like touching raw sewage. The quaffle was thrown up, the bludgers were unleashed as was the snitch and the game began.

I didn't fly up as high as the rest of the team and signalled to Bole that I was ready. I watched as Johnson stole the quaffle and dodged around Pucey. One of the Weasley twins smashed a bludger towards Bletchley, who was moving to take the quaffle, it missed him and came sailing straight down towards me. I grinned as I slammed it up towards Bole. I suddenly broke out high into the air and Bole smashed the bludger towards me again, the then hit it towards Johnson, who still had the quaffle. She narrowly escaped it and Flint was able to steal the quaffle. He mouthed the word 'Wood' to me just before a bludger when right past me. I looked up to see Fred Weasley, glaring at me. Seems like someone wasn't happy about that bludger I sent to Johnson.

The game continued fiercely for another fifteen minutes. Bole and I contributed to one of Flint's plays that knocked Spinnett of her broom. She was up again quickly but not before we took the lead 50-40. She and Wood were both a little bit slow. I shot several good bludgers to the chasers and once caused Bell's broom to spin but the one I sent to Wood he dodged. Flint flew past me shouting for me to knock him of his broom.

The score heated up, 70-90 Gryffindor lead. I zoomed up to Draco and shouted for him to find the fucking snitch and some other profanities. The game pressed on and soon I felt my bra begin to fill out. /Shit!/ I thought but my attention was quickly directed to a bludger coming my way. /This is it/ I thought, /this better knock Wood unconscious/ Just my luck, the damn thing went no where near Wood! Actually, it went towards Draco and that Potter kid. I didn't have time to watch, I needed to get Wood.

I flew up by the goal posts for Gryffindor. Wood looked at me strangely and I looked at him. At first he stared at me because I figured he couldn't understand how "Graham" Montague was up in the air when he had a broken left arm just last week. But then the stare changed into a different type of puzzlement. I quickly realized why, the potion was wearing off. Before I could even sneer at him, Bole shouted to me. He sent a nice bludger my way, I grinned as my bat contacted it and smashed it towards Wood. As the bludger carried him and his broom down to the ground, I sneered at him.

Suddenly, after Wood thudded to the ground, his team rushed to him and I realized why, over the speaker, that Jordan kid had just announced, "Slytherin Wins." Very unenthusiastically I might add. The slytherins were going crazy as was all the guys on the team. I could feel the potion growing incredibly thin so I didn't hesitate to head to the locker rooms. Just before I disappeared inside, I looked to see the Weasley's helping Oliver off the field and I saw the Potter kid trudging after them. He stared right at me, hatefully. Then his eyes widened and I dashed inside the locker rooms.

"Fuck," I cursed as I splashed my face with water. I stared at my reflection and swore, "I will never turn into my brother again." I felt mucus climbing up my throat and I ran to the toilet to hurl up what was left of that potion. When I came out the guys were all changing and gloating.

Flint nodded to you. "Good job, Morgan."

"It's Morgana to you," I said coldly.

"Oo," Kevin said, putting on his shirt, "what got into you?"

Graham cut in before I could answer. He had come in with a giant, sinister grin on his face. "Did you see Wood! He fell from the air like a ragdoll!"

"You're welcome," I said sarcastically. I think puking knocked me into my biting mood again. Graham gave me a hug.

"You looked better as your brother," Draco said like the brat he is.

To my surprise, Marcus sent him a death glare and Graham said, "Excuse me? That bludger could have decapitated you instead of hitting Potter."

"Watch it, Malfoy," Marcus said. He flashed me a bit grin that I could have done without but since he did help shut the ferret up so I threw him a small smile.

Everyone stayed in the locker room gloating about the game for a good ten minutes then we walked out onto the now deserted pitch, well at least we thought it was deserted.

MEANWHILE

"Ugh," Oliver said as he tried to straighten up. "I'm fine, guys, really."

"Are you sure?" Angelina asked. "You fell a long way. Madame Hooch barely let you escape going to Madame Promphery."

Oliver said, trying to regain his composure, "I more lofted down."

"How can you be so calm!" Fred exclaimed. "Montague smashed that bludger right at you! At close range! The only reason he didn't get called for it was because it was the last few seconds!"

Oliver frowned, "Oh yeah . . . we lost."

"No shit!" George joined in as well. "Not only are you lucky to still be breathing, mate but it was all because of that bludger Montague sent at Harry."

"How on earth did Montague heal so fast?" Katie asked as they entered the Gryffindor locker rooms. "I swore I saw him in a cast this morning."

"What I wouldn't give to punch that Montague prat right now," Alicia growled, ringing her fist and shoving her quidditch robes into a locker.

"There was something strange about Montague today," Oliver said, thinking hard. The fall had dazed him a bit.

"Uh, guys," Harry said trying to get a word in but failed.

"They played dirty!" George shouted, circling the locker room. "Dirtier then usual!"

"How on earth did he heal so fast!" Katie nearly screamed. As someone wanting to become a healer, it really ticked her off.

"He almost decapitated Angelina!" Fred exclaimed.

"Uh-guys," Harry said.

"You know what we have to do," Alicia said sinisterly.

"What are you thinking?" Oliver asked getting sucked up in all the adrenaline.

"I say we go kick Montague's ass to next Thursday!" Fred shouted.

"Oh let's go," Angelina said tossing her robes into a locker as well. The famous trait of Gryffindor, besides bravery, happened to be rashness and that certainly was shining brightly right then.

The team poured out of the locker room and it Oliver who tried to calm everyone down as they stomped over to the Slytherin locker rooms. "Whoa, whoa, guys, perhaps we should," Oliver was about to say something when he doubled over and started to cough violently, the bludger to the stomach must have done something to his innards.

"That's it," Katie said, "let's get him." The Gryffindors saw the Slytherin quidditch team leaving their locker rooms up ahead.

"May I have the honors," Fred asked stiffening with anticipation, he looked to Angelina and Alicia who nodded.

"I get the second punch," Alicia said, moving up to next to Fred and rolling up her sleeve.

"Wait, guys!" Harry said, trying to stop them but it was too late, Fred and Alicia were already charging towards Montague.

I felt a hand on my hair and another on my shoulder, sharply spinning me around. Next thing I know, I have a fist in my face and soon after another in my stomach. I fell back to the ground. I felt my hair fall out of its bun and around my shoulders. I looked up to see I think Fred Weasley it was, and Spinnett of the Gryffindor quidditch team standing over me. They had horrified looks on their faces. The other members of the Gryffindor team were behind them.

"I tried to tell you . . ." Harry said.

There was an awkward silence as I pulled myself up to my feet. /Wow, either I'm quite tall or Weasley is short/ I thought. Truth was I am tall, 5'10. Tall for a girl but since I only am seen with my brother and the Slytherin quidditch guys, it is nothing special. I guess I just thought a famous prankster git would be taller. I put my hand to my nose and realized that it was bleeding. I tried not to shiver with embarrassment.

"You're not Montague!" Fred shouted.

I smirked, "Yes I am." Ah, the confusion on all their faces was quite self satisfying. Especially the way Wood was gaping at me. "Morgana Montague, the new Slytherin beater, at your service,"I said with a mock bow. "I think must have mistook me for my brother," I thumbed to Graham.

"Oh and I owe you this, Weasley," I said quickly before planting my fist in his face. He fell back a bit and I dropped my hand, in truth it kinda hurt but I didn't let it show. I also felt myself getting a bit nauseous. Probably still from the potion. "Now if you'll excuse us we will be leaving," I looked back at the guys. I had almost given them the perfect opportunity to kill the people they despised most. But I wasn't in the mood to humor anyone. I was nauseous, I was sweaty and I had a bloody nose. The nose part wouldn't have been as embarrassing if it had been from Spinnett but it had to be from Weasley.

I glared at Graham and Marcus, telling them to put a move on. "Let's go team," Marcus said, "we shouldn't waste our time with scum like this." I walked with the team back towards the castle. I heard one of the Gryffindor girls mutter 'bitch' under their breath. "I heard that," I shouted.

When the guys turned to go down to the common room, I said I would see them later and dashed up to the third floor. I would rather not have some other girl hear me and think I have an eating disorder and then have to explain about the potion.

"Looks like someone got a little sick," Moaning Myrtile giggled, taking pleasure at the sounds of my gagging.

About an hour later I stopped gagging, choking up the last slime of the potion that I could. I checked the mirror. My eyes were slightly bloodshot. I cursed and splashed water on my face.

"Are you alright?" I heard a girl ask.

"Yeah, you didn't sound too good."

"And by the way have you seen–" when I looked up I saw the three Gryffindor chasers standing there. Bell had been talking but when she saw my face she quick to shut up.

"I am fine," I said sourly. "The butterbear at the victory party got to me," I lied. I wiped my face with my sleeve and summoned all the Slytherin in me to not exit the bathroom. I may throw a good right hook but I will not deny a catfight, three on one, all rather strong girls would be ugly. "Is there a specific reason you are here? I didn't know going to the bathroom was a social affaire." I would have killed for an actual butterbeer right then, a regular beer or a cigarette. All nasty habits I know but for people famous for the composure, such as Slytherins, they were quite helpful at calming and getting smashed if you depressed but that goes for any house . . . though I don't think I have ever seen a drunk hufflepuff . . . That would be something I would pay to see.

I snapped back to reality when one of the girls spoke. "Actually we were looking for you," Angelina said, trying to remain civil though her voice was dripping with hate.

"Why?" I asked glancing to Alicia who looked like she wanted nothing more than to punch me again. "If you want to punch me again, go right ahead, but I can't say I won't punch back this time." I was getting nervous when Alicia actually took a step towards me.

"We want a rematch," she said. "Now that all the cards are on the table . . ." she looked up and down. She may have been a bit shorter than me but if looks could kill . . .

"I accept, then," I said, taking a step back for personal space.

"You already did," Katie said, folding her arms across her chest.

"Excuse me?"

"Oliver challenged Flint. We thought we would inform you personally."

I mentally cringed, that personally she had added was like nails on chalkboard. "Thank you for your sportsmanship," I said through clenched teeth.

"More than we can say for you Slytherins," Angelina said.

"I resent that," I said before moving on to a relevant question. "When is the match?"

"Tomorrow is Sunday. At dawn."

"Well then," I said quickly brushing past the three girls, "I shall see you at dawn. Right now, I would like to eat dinner." Once I got past them, a wave of relief swept over me once I reached the stairwell and I chose to be a complete ass. "I do hope your captain will be up to the challenge tomorrow. I would hate for him to be knocked off his broom again."

Author's Note:

Well there is chapter one. It isn't too exciting yet, there will be more Oliver/Morgana contact in the next chapter. This was just a bit of an intro. I appreciate feedback. Since it is only the first chapter, I promise the development will get better.