A.N. Okay, this is a fic that I've been working on for a long time. I'm about 21Chapters into and I'll post the rest when I can track them down. As always, if there's any spelling or grammar errors in here, my bad!

Also, I've altered a lot of student's ages because it made things a heck of a lot easier. If this upsets anyone...my bad again

The final days of summer were fast approaching and making their presence known.

Marcus watched the bright afternoon sun from his bedroom window and sighed. His sixth year at Hogwarts started the next day and he was still in the middle of his packing. His trunk laid open on his bed and clothing and textbooks were scattered across the room.

He wasn't ready to give up his summer vacation yet, but he wasn't willing to stay home for much longer either. Not with his grandfather on the warpath, yet again, enraged the morning's Daily Prophet article about the increasing number of muggleborn students attending Hogwarts every year.

Marius Flint was a well known pureblood and nothing angered him more then being forced to stay in the presence of a muggleborn longer then necessary.

He tried to rub these feeling off on his grandson, but Marcus couldn't care less. His father always thought him to treat everyone equally and acting like his grandfather was a disgrace to his memory. His father never wanted Marcus to hate unjustly.

Marcus felt his throat tighten, as it always did whenever he thought about his father. He didn't remember him much, Marcus was only seven when he died, but even his bigoted grandfather couldn't force the memory of his father's warm face out of his mind.

He packed the rest of his clothes and textbooks quietly. He was still missing two from his required list and planned to go to Diagon Alley later to buy them.

He finished packing and pushed the trunk of his bed. Another year of Hogwarts awaited him. Another year with his friends, another of quidditch, another year of being forced to be around Oliver Wood.

His stomach turned into knots. This was Wood's sixth year as well. Ever since their third year, Marcus had always disliked the Gryffindor. Oliver was everything he wasn't. A good student, an even better quidditch player. Not to mention the pretty boy looks that girls killed for.

Their rivalry started last year. Oliver was made caption of the Gryffindor team and Marcus was made the Slytherin caption. They were suppose to hate each other. He did hate Oliver, and made sure the Gryffindor knew that by the many stray bludgers directed at him.

However, during the summer, Marcus came to a stunning revelation. He always felt nervous and anxious around the Gryffindor and up till then, he always dismissed it as dislike but it couldn't be more opposite.

Through out the summer holiday, all Marcus thought about was Wood. He often recalled times when he'd seen Oliver smile at something and payed close attention to the way his eyes lit up, the way his lips curved. Those thoughts always gave his stomach a weird feeling and after a long period of thought and denial, he realized what those feelings were.

He was in love.

He was in love with Oliver Wood.

He flinched when he said that word inside his head. He always hated that word. Love meant nothing to him. He'd never been in love and hadn't seen much of it to change his opinion.

He pulled his trunk off his bed and sat down the on the edge. He hoped this year would be better. He hoped that Oliver would stop seeing him as an enemy. Maybe even as a friend, or at least a friendly rival.

Perhaps he could even summon up enough nerve to admit his feelings to the Gryffindor by then? He could dream.

Because, not matter what he did to prevent it, Oliver Wood would be in his dreams tonight.