Pansy had only meant to do the routine check of the Gringotts dragons, but seeing an old fogey attempt to pick a fight with a goblin was too entertaining a situation to pass up watching. Pansy couldn’t help but make a face, catching the eye of the person next to her.
Marcus returned the look with a grimace of his own, massaging his temples in irritation. “I’m too hungover for this, Pans, can we please leave.” He was tired, hungry, suffering from probably the third worst headache he’s experienced this month, and that bat of a woman a few rows away from them was not helping the situation.
“Oy! Would you shut it!” Marcus hollered from his place beside Pansy.
— “ i figure if puddlemere’sgoing to take the cup this year ,i might as well assess the competition . along with house pride and all that . ” millicent said , although with her slight obsession with quidditch , she seemed to find herself watching whatever she could land her eyes on . the obsession seemed to only gain passion when she’d been accepted into puddlemere united . “ sorry for the disrespect , cap . ” millicent replied , bringing two fingers up to her forehead and giving the other a salute before pursing her lips in thought . “ you look like you need a drink . ”
“I need several.” Marcus admitted with a sigh, rubbing his forehead tiredly. Being the captain of his current team makes him feel like he’s aged 5 years. “I’ll forgive you if you buy me the first few, Bullstrode.”
“ charles weasley . well , really everyone just calls me charlie . ” he said after a moment , it had been a bit since he’d had to formally introduce himself to someone . “ i was the gryffindor seeker & captain back in 1991 . ” he said , hesitating with the year for a moment , being that it was so long ago . he HAD enjoyed his time on the team , & he’d recalled the angry chastising he’d gotten from a fair few of people when he’d decided to pursue his career with dragons instead of quidditch .
“Oh, a Weasley.” There must be twenty of them. Merlin knows how many he’s run into recently. They were all over the place, it seems. Marcus hesitated for a moment before nodding his head. “Well, listen mate, I’ve just experienced a major beating and am in desperate need of a drink so...”
“Better than you calling yourself a Quidditch player.” Lavender scoffed, unable to keep her nastiness at bay these days. “I saw the loss and bet that’s why you’re pouting, isn’t it? Luckily I’m a Puddlemere fan, tried and true.”
“I’m not pouting.” Marcus retorted before he could stop himself. He immediately reeled himself back in, pressing his lips together in a thin line before taking a deep breath. “Alright, Brown, my pride’s taken a few good hits already, I’m just going to walk away and get drunk so... I don’t know, go find Weasley or something and do whatever it is you Gryffindors do for fun.”
“If you haven’t heard already, they’ve been sent to jail for siding with the deatheaters. now they are enjoying themselves in their cells but hey, at least they’re together.” daphne was not affected by his bluntness. hell, she does not even care about her parents anymore. “but yeah, i have some scenes to do later on. i don’t remember any bribing involved though i can sense that it was my aunt’s doing. she has connections everywhere.”
“I was being sarcastic, Daph. Good Merlin.” Marcus muttered under his breath, averting his eyes in mild irritation. “Well, good luck with that. I’m going to go drown my bruised pride in alcohol so at least one of us is being productive.”
With his gaze literally fixated upon the clouds above, brown hues widened before he brought the camera up to his eye and decided to continue snapping. Photography was always something Colin had excelled in but Dennis tended to follow in his late brother’s footsteps and now that he was gone, he was trying to look at the world the same way his brother used to. Though he was so wrapped up in the photo he wasn’t watching where he was going. His own small frame colliding with the other’s very muscular one, gulping as his eyes widen, camera dropping. Thank merlin he had it wrapped around his neck otherwise his brother’s most prized possession would have been smashed, “S-s-sorry.” Dennis muttered, unable to tear his eyes away, heart hammering against his rib cage.
Marcus raised a brow. The kid looked like he was about to shit himself. “What were you doing taking photos in the middle of the-” Marcus stopped himself, only to really give the kid a good once over. “Your Creevey’s brother.” Oh... Right. His eyes moved to the camera around his neck and his frown softened. “Listen... Just... Don’t worry about it.”
of course penelope didn’t count herself as a fan of marcus flint back at hogwarts; but the witch did follow the quidditch league too closely, which made it difficult not to feel a hint of admiration when confronted with the captain of falmouth falcons. the team was no appleby arrows, her favorites, but at least they also weren’t wimbourne wasps. so, she could cheer for them in some matches with a clear heart. “ my fault, sorry. “ a gentle expression accompanied the words, her fingers playing with the the letter that had been the culprit of stealing her attention away from the road. “ great match, by the way. really. i was sure you’d win. “
Immediately, Marcus was intrigued. No one ever thought they’d win.
“Really? I wasn’t.” He raised a brow and gave her a quick once over. Penelope Clearwater. He didn’t know much about her to be quite frank, but as a fellow Hogwarts alum, he could point her out in a crowd. “We were down 100 points. I knew that even if our oaf of a seeker found the snitch, we would have lost by the end of it.” He gave her a wry smile before shrugging his shoulders. “But thanks for the support.”
it was only at his answer that he slowly nodded, understanding instantly that it wasn’t as great as he would have liked it to be. and that had to be disappointing for a professional if he knew that feeling just from school or from watching ginny. “oh..” ron mumbled. “always next time, right?“
Okay, he was being decent. Ugh, sometimes he hated it when people seemed to be genuinely nice to him. It made him feel even worse about being a dick. “Yeah, always a next time.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders, digging his hands further into his pockets. “What were you doing watching the game anyway, Weasley? It wasn’t like anyone interesting was playing.” He said, a wry grin playing on his lips in a light self deprecating humor.
“ MAYBE if you didn’t take up the whole walk wayi would be able to . ” millicent said to the other former slytherin , entirely too prideful to admit that the nudge had been party her fault . crossing her arms at the recognition of the other former slytherin ( and captain ) . “ watched the game , at least the weather was rather tempid . for this time of year ,anyway . ”
“That’s not how you talk to your captain, Bullstrode.” Marcus said with a grunt. “Also, if the weather is the only good thing you took away from that game, then taking up the whole walkway is the least of my concerns.” He hunched his shoulders higher to keep away the cold, eyeing the girl from the tops of his scarf. “What were you doing watching the game?” No one ever seems to watch our games... He wanted to add, but instead, he decided to be less pitiful and keep quiet.
he hadn’t been in his year , but charlie had been quite the quidditch star back in school & part of that meant that he’d kept an eye on the players on other teams , whatever grade they were in . “ sorry , i’ve been a bit .. frazzled ! ” he said , not taking much offense to the bluntness of the other’s words . “ you’re flint , right ? how’ve you been ? ” he questioned
Marcus raised a brow. The man was vaguely familiar, but not enough for him to come up with a name. It also seemed like he wanted to chat. It took great strength not to roll his eyes.
“That’s right.” He said, instead, brows furrowing in mild irritation. “I’ve been better. And you are?” He was never the most polite, especially with a loss heavy on his shoulders.
“fuck–” ron mumbled under his breath, rubbing his shoulder as he turned to the other person. he was about to mumble ‘sorry’ until he noticed who it was, simply rolling his eyes. “flint.” he muttered in a slight greeting and apology. though knowing he didn’t want the run-in to go south, he spoke up again. “what was the score? in the match?”
“Weasley.”
He shrugged off their bump-in before clenching his jaw at the question. He could see the other was at least trying to be civil, so he thought he’d return the favor. No use in being a dick in this situation. “That’s something I’m pretty sure I want to forget right now.” He finally replies, looking up to avoid any more questions, lips curling down at the reminder of their loss.
Oliver was about to apologize to the person he bumped when he realized who it was. Scowling, he said, “It’s this inability to see what’s right in front of you that lost you that quaffle, Flint.” He rolled his eyes, his mind still on the terrible way Marcus had fumbled the ball.
Oliver could tell the Falcons’ morale was low, likely because they hadn’t had a good draft pick in years. Besides Flint, of course, but Oliver would never say that to his face. “As a captain, it’s on you to motivate your team. I’m not certain you’ve been doing that at all.”
“Wood.” Brilliant. Just brilliant. As if his day couldn’t get any worse.
It wasn’t really that big of a surprise to see the Puddlemere keeper. Quidditch players tended to run in the same circles, but with the reputation the Falcons’ had, they usually stayed clear of the Quidditch social scene, so their run-ins were few and far between. “Careful there, you’re starting to sound like you actually give a shit.”
“It’s ladies first, Flint.” Lavender raised a brow, nose red from the biting January frost as she fought against the strong wind that had pushed her against the other in the first place. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?”
He cocked a brow once he noticed the person he had bumped into. “Are you calling yourself a lady, Brown?” Marcus pressed his lips together before looking away, not wanting to give away the fact that his team’s recent loss got to him that much. “It’s nothing. Nothing that concerns you at least.”
the chilly wind blew onto her face as her hair covered most parts of her face. it was the least glamorous and most irritating thing for someone with long locks like daphne’s. she was on her way to grab a hot beverage before appearing on set but the wind thought it was too early for that as it sent another bunch of the girl’s hair into her face, blocking her view in front. as she swept her hair away annoyingly for the hundredth time, she felt someone bumping against her shoulder. “someone’s being a grumpy cat today,” her lips curled into a smirk after realizing who the person was. “let me guess, another loss?”
The second Marcus recognized the person that had bumped into him, his scowl softened for a second, leaving him with just an irritated frown. “Oh shut up, Greengrass.” He gave her a quick up-down before raising a brow. “You shooting today? Did mommy and daddy bribe another director to hire you?” There wasn’t as much bite to his tone, but he blamed the weight of defeat that rested on his shoulders.
Hello everyone! I’m Ange and I play this lil bab, Marcus Flint. He’s a grumpy old man in a tall dark and handsome package. Please shower him with love because he sucks at making friends! Like this and I’ll wiggle my way into your dms. :*
bob morley || he/him || male ✧ is that marcus flint entering the ministry? the twenty-fiveyear old is a slytherin and i think he remained neutral during the war. but now he works as the chaser and captain of the falmouth falcons. it makes sense, since he’s ambitious & loyalbut also aggressive & short-tempered.
Childhood: Marcus grew up in a home of red-blooded men that seemed to succeed in everything that they did. His father expected the best, especially from his sons, and if he got less than exemplary, they were punished accordingly. With four over-achieving older brothers, the pressure was suffocating. Marcus couldn’t seem to catch a breath. He tried his best in school, but academics were never his forte. It was only in Quidditch where he found his saving grace.
Hogwarts: He threw himself into Quidditch the second he made the team, and thank Merlin he was good at it. He worked to become so good at the sport that it distracted his father from the lack-luster grades that he couldn’t seem to pick up. He, however, was not honorable enough to play fair all the time, not when the consequences of failure were brutal. No, Marcus did everything in his power to win, and if that meant dishing out a couple of broken bones, then so be it.
War: His family stayed neutral during the war. “Keep your head low and we’ll be fine.” His mother would tell him as his brothers and father secured their manor, hoarding goods and bribing to stay afloat. He, however, felt an itch under his skin. Neutrality, for some reason, did not sit well with him. But his family was hs utmost priority, and if hiding away in their manor was what kept them safe, then that itch was a small price to pay.
Present: He joined the Falmouth Falcons as soon as the war ended. It kept him busy and it made his father the closest to happy the man could be. The only thing was that they was the shittiest team in the league, so much so that he made captain not long after he joined because no one on the team had half the skill nor the talent to do so. That was alright though. He was trying to keep his head down and shitty teams never got too much attention to begin with. The pinch of failure that came with every loss, however, kept growing and growing, and that itch under his skin from before came back. Keeping his head down never sat well with him then... Perhaps it wasn’t too late to do something about it now.
Another game, another loss. You’d think, if you’ve lost this many times, it would get easier.
Marcus tugged his scarf tighter around his neck, bracing himself against the cold of January. His muscles ached and his pride throbbed even more with the weight of defeat. He was so distracted with his own pity party that he didn’t even notice the figure coming towards him till he felt a hard nudge against his shoulder.
“Watch it.” He grunted, turning to face the person with a scowl.
