HP: What I Might Need First Draft 2/2
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Marcus/Pucey, Pucey/Higgs, Marcus/Percy
Rating: um... PG-13?
Word Count: 4568
Warnings: crass language and sexual innuendo
Author's Note: This was the original draft for What I Might Need. Obviously, I scrapped it. (Four years ago.)
Disclaimer: HP belongs to JKR and WB.
Summary: Marcus is somewhat of a loose cannon.
Part One
“Malfoy! What the fuck are you doing?”
“Chasing things,’ he responds as lazily as he can while panting.
“Don’t interfere with the Chasers!”
He sneers.
“You are a Seeker, so stay the fuck away from the Chasers.”
He gives me a condescending glare. Little shite. Father buys his son’s way onto a team. It’s a school team. School. It means nothing. No scouts. They won’t be bothered with a school; you need to go find them. Waste your time, not theirs. This brat has some serious issues with Potter. Classic “anything you can do, I can do better.”
Of course, I can’t say no to “Daddy.” That would be suicide.
“Flint, do something about Bole; he’s leaning too far to the left. It’s throwing me off.”
“Thanks, Derrick. Bole! Stop leaning left! Higgs!” I mount my broom and fly to him. “You’re supposed to be practicing with Malfoy.”
Higgs glares. “Tell Malfoy he’s supposed to chase the bloody thing.” I don’t want to duel.
“Greenhouse Twelve?”
“What the fuck? How did you - ”
“Charms isn’t your strongest.”
“Prick.”
I smirk. “Ask Pucey.”
He growls but says nothing.
“Malfoy! It’s called a snitch! You chase it with the intent of catching it! Bollocks, we’ll never be ready for Ravenclaw if you don’t practice!”
“Thanks, Flint,” Higgs says wryly. “Greenhouse Twelve. Alone. No seconds, no duel. And Pucey with you is not alone.”
I smile mockingly.
---
“Here I am, Higgs. What do you want to settle?” I demand, magically slamming the door behind me.
“This has nothing to do with settling anything. I just want you to stop throwing Pucey at me.”
“You want Pucey to stop riding your arse?” I raise my eyebrows.
His lips thin at my choice of words. “Right.”
“And what are you willing to give up in return?”
Shite.
“You didn’t think I’d give up my fun for nothing,” I chuckle.
“I’m straight,” he blurts out.
“I know,” I state.
“But you do that anyhow?” his voice cracks.
“Yes.”
Sick.
“Yes.”
“What?” I didn’t say that aloud… did I?
“I am sick,” I respond.
“What?”
“Schizophrenia. It’s a nasty illness.” Why am I telling him this? “Very real.”
Oh. “It seems like a very handy trait to have,” he says after a moment. “Very Slytherin.”
I glare at him. “Do you know what it’s like to have all those voices?” I’m getting huffy.
I want to hurt him because he doesn’t understand.
I take all of my anger and send it in his direction, taking hold of a large neuron in the back of his brain.
Higgs grabs his head in both of his hands, trying to block it out.
“Like that, Higgs? That is my life,” I growl. “This is what I go through all the time. Who are you to deny me my fun.”
“Make it stop,” he whimpers.
I let go of the neuron, and he stars breathing hard.
“I understand,” he pants.
“I know you do,” I smirk.
He looks at me pitifully.
“You will tell no one; I’ll know if you do.”
He nods.
“Now get the fuck out of my sight.
He sprints out of the greenhouse.
Fuck. He was a good seeker, too.
---
“Merlin, Flint, you missed all of the excitement!” Pucey tells me, positively bouncing as I return to our dorm.
“What did I miss?” I ask exasperatedly.
“Things didn’t go well with Higgs?” he frowns.
“It’s nothing,” I lie. Damn straight things didn’t go well.
“Okay, so the Charms corridor was packed with half the school! Ten rolled around and since neither you nor Higgs was there, everyone became uneasy, like someone was going to give them all a life’s worth of detention.
“Soon someone gets it in his mind that they’d all been cheated and that’s when Weasley comes and orders everyone out of the halls, taking points all the while.”
“Pucey, that’s not exciting. That’s boring.” I roll my eyes.
“Weasley was there the whole time, hiding, waiting to watch you and Higgs go at it.”
“Are you implying that he’s a voyeur or just lurking, waiting for a chance to be important?”
“Either/or. It’s Weasley, who the hell knows.”
This is all unimportant. All that matters is that Higgs keeps his mouth shut.
“Who won?” He suddenly realizes that I was set to have a fight with Higgs.
I smirk.
“You did, huh?”
“Quite.”
“You cheated too.”
“Quite.”
Enough about Higgs. “Fancy a good luck tumble for tomorrow’s match?”
“Tumble or shag?”
“How about both? We’ll need all the luck to beat those Ravenclaw bastards.”
---
I told my team to eat breakfast and instructed Pucey to bring me a sweet roll, because I had something important to do.
I went up to the owlry and used Percy’s owl to send him a note telling him to meet me in the Hufflepuff locker room after the match. It would make him curious if anything.
Flint! Pucey shouts, passing me the quaffle.
I take it around the Ravenclaw seeker, pretty thing. Oh, she wants Cedric to shag her. Interesting.
Stop Flint, must stop Flint.
Confused, I duck as a chaser heads at me. I easily pass him.
Take that, Flint.
I duck the bludger aimed at me and throw the quaffle back to Pucey who scores.
“Thanks for the tip-off, Davies!” I shout to him.
He looks sour.
“And Slytherin is up ten, ahead of Ravenclaw by thirty points,” Jordon states boredly.
Their seeker catches the snitch, finding Malfoy at the other end of the pitch.
After a quick shower and a hell of a lot of curses directed at Malfoy, I make it to the Hufflepuff locker room.
I arrive before Percy, but leave the lights off.
The door opens, spilling light in, then closes again swiftly.
“Hullo, Marcus.” I hate how he calls everyone by their given name, as if he was born with permission. “What do you want?”
Need to see him.
“Lumos.” Frightened of the dark, are we?
I step into the light given off by his wand.
“How did you know?” Admit it, admit you’re a freak. Your owl told you, admit it. Hermes.
“It doesn’t matter. What do you want?” he asks tersely, dutifully.
I want this over with.
“What I want?” This won’t be over until I say so.
“Yes, why you called me here.” No mind games. Please.
“Look you pansy Gryffindor, I - ”
“Then tell me why you summoned me, and I’ll go.” Feeling bold as well?
“Why you - ”
“Goodbye, Marcus,” he interrupts and attempts to leave.
“P-Weasley, wait!” I call, hoping he didn’t catch me almost using his given name.
“What?” he snaps.
“About my sister.”
If he hurt her… “What about my sister?” he positively growls.
“She’s in danger. I thought you should know…” I have his attention now, excellent.
“First off, you’re being tentative.” Or maybe I’ve jerked his chain a little too hard and angered him instead. “You’ve never been so uncertain in all the time I’ve despised you.” Yes, I’ve yanked too hard. “Second, since when do you know and/or care about my sister being in possible danger?”
“I just - ” read her mind “ - I don’t fucking know!”
Peachy. Is that sarcasm I detect?
“You haven’t given me any base to believe you.”
True.
“I know I didn’t - still don’t,” I add quickly. I’ve not gone soft. “But you’re going to have to take my word on this.”
Oxymoron.
For fuck’s sake, swallow your damn pride, Weasley!
“Are you begging me?”
If that’s what it takes for you to believe me, “Yes!”
“What are you playing at?”
“Nothing,” I tell him honestly.
“Marcus?” His frown is quite endearing, makes him sexier. “Are you doing me a favor?”
“No - ” I’d never do you - Oh, this is a favor, isn’t it? “Yes, yes, I am.”
“What are you after?” Oh, he’s suspicious now.
“Nothing.” Although, I wouldn’t mind personally removing that stick from your arse.
“It’s not suiting for you to do something and ask for nothing in return.” You’re right, ask Higgs. Hmm… he still owes me.
“It’s… nothing. Your sister is in danger, but that’s it!” I shout and stalk out. His attitude really bothers me.
---
“How’d it go?” Pucey asks.
“He was a complete prat,” I sigh, dropping onto my couch in the common room.
“When do you plan on shagging him?” He drops into my lap.
“When I can stomach his presence for long enough,” I snarl.
“That productive.” His hands work up the inside of thighs.
“If he’s anything like that in the sack, my God, what a lay,” I whistle.
“Better than me?”
“Nah, you’re just easy. He’s a challenge.” I nibble the end of my thumb.
“TWAT!”
A hex flies over our heads.
“Get back here, you shite!” Montegue charges after Malfoy across the common room. “Daddy had bloody well have a good excuse!”
And that’s how Percy can repay me.
I smirk.
Pucey nips at my throat.
I gasp.
“Downstairs,” I growl.
---
It’s been a week since I’ve confronted Percy about his sister and after the fit she pitched at dinner, I think it’s time for me to do something productive.
She ran up to the Gryffindor tower, Percy following her with a strong sense of duty. I naturally followed them. Unfortunately, Wood followed me.
“You’d better have a damn good excuse for being here,” Wood growls into my ear, wand jabbing me in the lower back.
“Is that your wand, Wood, or are you just happy to see me?” I purr.
We both start as a ginger cat passes us.
That was different.
“Percy!” the girl Weasley gasps in surprise.
“Her name is Pounce.” Freak! “She’ll keep you company tonight.” How noble.
“Thank you.” She sounds like she’s going to cry.
Wood pushes his hand harder into my back.
“That’s exactly how I like it.”
He gags in disgust and has a very interesting mental image. If only I were that flexible.
“I’ll head up to bed.” She could not move any slower.
After the years it takes her to go upstairs, I emerge from the shadows.
“This isn’t good.” He rakes the hair out of his violet eyes, not purple. He looks damn sexy.
“Weasley?”
He starts. “How did you get in here? What do you want? What did you hear?” Rules and privacy mean nothing anymore.
“Don’t you get right to the point,” I respond sarcastically.
Wood pushes at my shoulder. “Caught this git spying on you.”
“Oliver! You heard too?” Does anyone believe in privacy anymore? “What is it Marcus?”
Right to the point.
“It’s too late, isn’t it?” I answer, flicking my eyes toward the stairs. What the fuck about him makes me so sodding… I don’t know the word for it. Sickeningly soppy works though.
“Too late for what?” he snaps.
“To save your sister.”
Wood growls behind me.
“To save her from what?” Oh, he’s losing control. Delicious.
“The Riddle.” I leave to wait for him in the hallway.
Percy storms past me. Where did you go?
A rat runs over his foot, spooking him. “Oh! I’m sorry!” he apologizes. To a rat.
Freak.
“Marcus, where are you?” Frustration.
I sneak up behind him and whisper into his ear, “I didn’t know you wanted me that bad.”
A shiver runs through his body, but he stays silent. In shock.
“Well?” I taunt. “You seemed so determined to find me, now you don’t know what to say?”
“Don’t mock me!” he finally speaks. “Or I’ll - ”
“Or you’ll what?” I interrupt. “Take points from my house, prefect?” Even if he wanted to do something more permanent, I would be able to quell that thought before he even thought it.
He glares at me. Keep tongue in check.
“I guess I’ll be on my way…” That had better loosen your tongue.
“Marcus, wait.” Finally. “Tell me about my sister.”
“What about her?” Just say it, you twat.
“What’s wrong?”
That’s not as specific as I would have liked, so I respond with something just as vague: “The Dark Lord has returned.”
Dear Merlin. “What - does that have to do with my sister?”
An improvement, but still not satisfactory. “Malfoy is playing games and your sister has been caught in the crossfire.” Anger.
“What do you mean?” he snaps. Finally, a real response. Stop making me feel worthless with your blasted mind games.
If you only knew.
“I mean your sister was inadvertently targeted in Potter’s place.
Why tell me? “Why are you volunteering this information?”
“Who said anything about volunteering?” I raise my eyebrows.
“How Slytherin.” Ginny, don’t say I never did anything for you.
“Protective of her, aren’t you?” I leer.
As if he can read my mind. I hope that never happens. “Leave her alone.”
“It’s too late, you know.” He’s quite boring and predictable when a fire’s lit under his arse. “But I can help.” I pause, licking my lips. “For a price.”
He makes an interesting noise, somewhere between a gasp and a groan.
“Friday night. Back of the library. Half past seven.” I leave him dumbfounded in the hallway before he recovers from his shock and tells me ‘no.’ Not that he’s assertive enough to do so under any circumstances.
---
“And he just stood there?”
“Like a complete prat.”
“Why didn’t you come up with something more fun than studying?” Pucey complains.
“You think he would open up his legs if I said ‘Let me sex you’?” I scoff.
“I would.”
“Well, you’re a whore.”
“So why the studying part?” A curious Pucey is not easily thrown.
“You miserable cur!” Montegue shrieks. “Don’t you have any news of Weasley?!”
I jerk my thumb in his direction and raise my eyebrows.
“So you have an excuse?” he frowns.
“Exactly. They’ve been testing my patience lately.”
Higgs growls at Montegue’s immaturity and collects his things to leave.
He passes us, keeping his eyes on me, cautiously.
When he’s gone, I wipe the drool from Pucey’s chin with my thumb.