(no subject)
Author: Irisri
Title: When Things Began
Rating: R or NC-17
Summary: It had started with a kiss. A very bad one at that.
Pairing: Marcus/Katie
Words: 3,972
Disclaimer: As you all know… I own nothing.
Requested: Pairings you would like to see in your fic: in addition to Marcus/Katie; Draco/Pansy, Lucius/Narcissa, Bellatrix/Rodolphus or any DE pairing
Things you want included in your fic: Marcus must be a DE and Katie finds this out as the Final Battle nears its end or in the aftermath. Marcus/Katie DO love each other. How does the realisation that he is and has been for some time a DE affect their relationship? How does she find out? Happy end or not is up to the author, but I'd like for it to be realistic, i.e. Marcus really IS a committed Death Eater and has done terrible things in Voldemort's service.
Author’s Note: Written for the bell_flint fic exchange.
Katie didn’t know how IT had started. She’d been skipping smooth rocks into the lake, watching the Giant Squid lift one of its tentacles and throw it back to the shore, nowhere near her. It had been late, and she hadn’t been supposed to be out.
And then she’d heard his taunting voice, that voice she’d hated since the day she’d arrived at Hogwarts, the voice that told her nasty things would be coming from his perfect lips.
At only fifteen, she had thought she’d had some pretty good comebacks, but him a half year older proved that his knowledge was more experienced. Mudblood passed from his lips, so did slut, whore, and quite a few names that insulted her mother.
She had stalked up to him, ready to slap that silly smirk off his face, when he grabbed her wrist with a lightly calloused hand. Fire had ran through her arm, and she knew no magic was in it. She’d jerked away, stumbling backwards, closer to the water.
“What are you doing out here? At this time of night?” she’d asked.
He chuckled. “The same as you, Bell. Breaking school rules, going out for a midnight stroll. Watching girls’ arses peek out from their small skirts.” he smirked at her, and his eyes lowered to her legs.
She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment, her anger renewed.
“Why you-“ She started towards him again and didn’t give him time to react. She punched him full on in the face, and she felt blood surface against her knuckles.
He growled at her. “Bitch,” he snarled. “You’re lucky my mother taught me never to hit a girl, even if she was a worthless Mudblood.”
She laughed harshly. “Then I guess you’re going to have a hard time joining your precious Lord’s group, aren’t you? Doesn’t stop you in Quidditch though does it? Gentleman.”
He dabbed at the blood, glaring at her every once in a while, but ignoring her otherwise.
She looked down at her hand, which was still clenched in a fist, noticing for the first time that her skin had torn. She absently tugged off what skin had broken free from the perfect web of flesh, and then turned around, picking up a rock and throwing it as hard as she could.
“Don’t care much about modesty, do you, Bell?” he sneered behind her.
She flipped her braid over her shoulder, intent on ignoring him.
“How is it having a person better than you at Quidditch on the team, Mudblood? Does Potter and the Weasel brothers keep you busy being their whore?”
“Do you want me to talk about how you’re Malfoy’s lackey, Flint?” She asked, her whole body shaking with rage. “If not, you best hold your tongue before your foot gets shoved in your mouth.”
A chuckle. “It’s the only thing I like about you, Mudblood.” A pause. “Your fire. It makes me want to break you.”
She looked back in surprise, unsure whether he was taunting her, or if he was serious. His mask was carefully placed on his face, unshowing to any emotions.
She turned back towards the lake. “I’ll never let any man break me, Flint. Let alone a boy who thinks he knows everything about me because of my blood.”
“We shall see, Bell.” He seemed closer, but she wouldn’t give in and turn around. Instead, she stared at the full moon.
“Perhaps, Flint. But it won’t be any time in the near future. You wouldn’t want to get burned so close to losing the Quidditch cup.”
Katie let out a gasp of surprise when she was suddenly pulled flush against a hard body.
“How does it feel, Mudblood,” he whispered dangerously close to her ear, so close she could feel his damp breath against it. “To have my jeans pressed up against your naked arse? Like it don’t you?”
Katie tried to twist away from him, only to find herself face to face with him instead. He’d let her go enough for her to twirl around, but clasped her hips in his hands the moment she faced him.
“You’re mad,” she whispered, staring into his black eyes.
“Yes, I am,” he agreed. “To want to do this with you.” A pause. “Tell me, Mudblood, if I pressed my fingers against your knickers, would I find them damp with need? Would I find you wanting my fingers inside you, or better, my cock?”
“No,” she snapped. “Now let me go. This is insane. Get away from me.”
“You don’t say it, like you mean it, Mudblood. Say it like you mean it, and perhaps I might.”
She reached up and slapped him hard enough to hear the resounding smack of her hand against his skin. He stumbled back, letting go of her to press his palm against his cheek.
She hurried away, running as fast as she could towards the castle, knowing he’d be close behind.
She was right. She’d only gotten halfway to the castle when she was yanked by her wrist to a halt.
“Don’t you ever slap me again,” he snarled, his voice venomous as a serpent bite.
“Or what?” she sneered. “Going to knock me off my broom?”
She could feel his fingernails biting into her skin as they warred with their eyes, each dark with anger and rage.
Suddenly, he pulled on her wrist enough to send her colliding into him, and used his other hand to push her neck to lift her head towards his. His lips slammed into hers. Her cry of surprise and outrage was muffled as she fought him, trying to push him away, only to have his forearms effectively stopping her.
She stared at his closed eyes, still struggling. Katie wondered what the hell had come over him. Damn, if he wanted to rape her, he didn’t have to do it with kissing, did he?
At the thought, she concentrated on the kiss. It was too rough, and his tongue tried to gain access too quickly, but his lips were soft to even out the roughness that he was pushing at her.
She didn’t respond, she made sure she didn’t, and when she could, she turned her head away. She didn’t lie it on his chest, she just looked the other way.
“Why did you do that?” she asked finally, surprised, and happy, to find that her voice was calm and even, and not a hint of her anger showed.
“Because you deserved it.”
“Is that the only reason, because if it is,” she warned, “You’re going to have a hell of a time on the Quidditch field.”
“I wanted to,” he said simply.
“Fine,” she muttered. “If you’ll let me go...”
He ignored her for a moment or two longer, then let her go swiftly, as if he remembered who he was touching.
She walked about fifty feet away before giving him a farewell taunt. “You know,” she said. “Your kissing sucks.” With a saucy grin, she hurried up to the castle.
She looked at the picture that usually remained tucked in her bodice. It was crinkled, and yellow, but he still snarled into whose ever’s eyes who stared into his. She’d not seen him in five years, and their farewell hadn’t been sweet at all. They were destined to hate each other, something they both knew was expected, but neither could force themselves to make themselves do so.
Especially after that night. She shook her head, trying to clear her head of the too-rough first kiss, the feel of his Quidditch roughened hands on her arse, that had felt so disgusting at the time, the way she’d watched his closed eyes and once he’d finally stopped, how she’d laughed at him. That had been what had really started it. It had almost been like a challenge to make her like his kissing.
It had taken awhile, but he finally succeeded.
And then he’d kissed her farewell, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip, damp from their kissing.
”Where are you going?” she demanded.
“The Dark Lord is trying to get me to join his forces. I have to go to into hiding.”
“Will you tell me where you are?” she asked, being angry to hide her fear of him being found
“No.”
Then he pressed his lips against her, pulling her close to him, almost lifting her from the ground from the force of his hands splayed across the small of her back.
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” she whispered, her ear against his chest, listening to the quick thump thump thump of his heart.
“Why, Bell,” he teased, a smile in his voice. “I didn’t know you cared.”
Realizing she had given herself away, she shoved him roughly. “I don’t,” she said, trying to convince herself as much as he.
“Right,” he replied, unconvinced. “See you around, Bell.” And then he chucked her under the chin like she was a child and walked off towards the castle.
“Katie.” She turned around to see Hermione staring at her. She crumpled the photo in her hand hurriedly, worried it would be ruined, but more worried that it would be seen.
“Yes, Hermione?” she asked after clearing her throat.
“We’ve got a mission.” That was all that needed to be said before Katie hurried to get her cloak and broom. When she went down the kitchen, Harry, Hermione, the twins, Ron, Kingsley, and the rest of the Order were crowded around the table, all had their hands leaned on the table, looking down at a map or paper.
“What’s the mission?” Katie asked hurriedly, throwing her cloak around her shoulders and buttoning it at the neck.
“Voldemort’s been spotted a little North of the Indian ocean, about five hundred miles from Africa,” Harry said. He looked at his watch. “About an hour or two ago. Source says that he had some of his little friends with him.”
“Any idea who?” She looked over Hermione’s shoulder, seeing the old map, watching as trains moved, planes flew over landscapes, and vehicles droves through the streets.
“Lucius Malfoy, Pansy and Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Bellatrix Lastrange-“ a sympathetic look was shot at Neville “-Rodopolus, Wormtail, of course, and there was one other that wasn’t identified.”
“My mission?”
“Just a scout right now,” Kingsley said. “We’re not making any moves until we know what the lunatic’s up to. You’ll Apparate with your broom to a small café about two miles from where he was spotted. By now, he’ll probably be at least five miles away. We’re guessing he’s going here-“ Kingsley pointed to a small picture of a manor. “We don’t know why though. Bellatrix was there maybe twenty minutes before he arrived.”
“Alright,” Katie said.
“And take care,” Harry warned. “We don’t really know this area. Or what Voldemort’s doing.”
“I will.” And with that, she Apparated.
Katie was surprised to find that her Apparation had brought her to a Muggle area. The café that Harry had been talking about was a small outdoor one, right outside a small market.
Katie walked through the small market, trying to ignore the stares of Muggles watching her. She could understand, however, if she was as ignorant as they were.
She pretended to be interested in the various items that were placed in the small stands. Vegetables and fruits gave the market a smell that was too sweet. Katie smiled politely as one after another, a merchant shoved an article of clothing or jewelry towards her, explaining its expense and the value. She kindly told the merchants that she wasn’t buying anything today, but thank you.
She kept walking through the small market, and almost sighed in relief when she reached the end of it. It meant she could hurry along without worrying about being watched curiously by the suspicious Muggles.
Once she was out of sight, she cast a spell on herself so she’d not been seen. Katie mounted her broom and flew up into the cloudy sky.
Trees covered the ground, and she hadn’t noticed just how many there was when she’d been on firm ground.
Kate groaned. How was she supposed to spot Voldemort through all of that mess? How she wished for something to see through things with. She zoomed closer to the trees, heading towards the manor that the Order had told her about.
When she came to it, she lowered herself back to the ground, cautiously looking around.
Seeing no one, she hurried towards the manor and
Title: When Things Began
Rating: R or NC-17
Summary: It had started with a kiss. A very bad one at that.
Pairing: Marcus/Katie
Words: 3,972
Disclaimer: As you all know… I own nothing.
Requested: Pairings you would like to see in your fic: in addition to Marcus/Katie; Draco/Pansy, Lucius/Narcissa, Bellatrix/Rodolphus or any DE pairing
Things you want included in your fic: Marcus must be a DE and Katie finds this out as the Final Battle nears its end or in the aftermath. Marcus/Katie DO love each other. How does the realisation that he is and has been for some time a DE affect their relationship? How does she find out? Happy end or not is up to the author, but I'd like for it to be realistic, i.e. Marcus really IS a committed Death Eater and has done terrible things in Voldemort's service.
Author’s Note: Written for the bell_flint fic exchange.
Katie didn’t know how IT had started. She’d been skipping smooth rocks into the lake, watching the Giant Squid lift one of its tentacles and throw it back to the shore, nowhere near her. It had been late, and she hadn’t been supposed to be out.
And then she’d heard his taunting voice, that voice she’d hated since the day she’d arrived at Hogwarts, the voice that told her nasty things would be coming from his perfect lips.
At only fifteen, she had thought she’d had some pretty good comebacks, but him a half year older proved that his knowledge was more experienced. Mudblood passed from his lips, so did slut, whore, and quite a few names that insulted her mother.
She had stalked up to him, ready to slap that silly smirk off his face, when he grabbed her wrist with a lightly calloused hand. Fire had ran through her arm, and she knew no magic was in it. She’d jerked away, stumbling backwards, closer to the water.
“What are you doing out here? At this time of night?” she’d asked.
He chuckled. “The same as you, Bell. Breaking school rules, going out for a midnight stroll. Watching girls’ arses peek out from their small skirts.” he smirked at her, and his eyes lowered to her legs.
She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment, her anger renewed.
“Why you-“ She started towards him again and didn’t give him time to react. She punched him full on in the face, and she felt blood surface against her knuckles.
He growled at her. “Bitch,” he snarled. “You’re lucky my mother taught me never to hit a girl, even if she was a worthless Mudblood.”
She laughed harshly. “Then I guess you’re going to have a hard time joining your precious Lord’s group, aren’t you? Doesn’t stop you in Quidditch though does it? Gentleman.”
He dabbed at the blood, glaring at her every once in a while, but ignoring her otherwise.
She looked down at her hand, which was still clenched in a fist, noticing for the first time that her skin had torn. She absently tugged off what skin had broken free from the perfect web of flesh, and then turned around, picking up a rock and throwing it as hard as she could.
“Don’t care much about modesty, do you, Bell?” he sneered behind her.
She flipped her braid over her shoulder, intent on ignoring him.
“How is it having a person better than you at Quidditch on the team, Mudblood? Does Potter and the Weasel brothers keep you busy being their whore?”
“Do you want me to talk about how you’re Malfoy’s lackey, Flint?” She asked, her whole body shaking with rage. “If not, you best hold your tongue before your foot gets shoved in your mouth.”
A chuckle. “It’s the only thing I like about you, Mudblood.” A pause. “Your fire. It makes me want to break you.”
She looked back in surprise, unsure whether he was taunting her, or if he was serious. His mask was carefully placed on his face, unshowing to any emotions.
She turned back towards the lake. “I’ll never let any man break me, Flint. Let alone a boy who thinks he knows everything about me because of my blood.”
“We shall see, Bell.” He seemed closer, but she wouldn’t give in and turn around. Instead, she stared at the full moon.
“Perhaps, Flint. But it won’t be any time in the near future. You wouldn’t want to get burned so close to losing the Quidditch cup.”
Katie let out a gasp of surprise when she was suddenly pulled flush against a hard body.
“How does it feel, Mudblood,” he whispered dangerously close to her ear, so close she could feel his damp breath against it. “To have my jeans pressed up against your naked arse? Like it don’t you?”
Katie tried to twist away from him, only to find herself face to face with him instead. He’d let her go enough for her to twirl around, but clasped her hips in his hands the moment she faced him.
“You’re mad,” she whispered, staring into his black eyes.
“Yes, I am,” he agreed. “To want to do this with you.” A pause. “Tell me, Mudblood, if I pressed my fingers against your knickers, would I find them damp with need? Would I find you wanting my fingers inside you, or better, my cock?”
“No,” she snapped. “Now let me go. This is insane. Get away from me.”
“You don’t say it, like you mean it, Mudblood. Say it like you mean it, and perhaps I might.”
She reached up and slapped him hard enough to hear the resounding smack of her hand against his skin. He stumbled back, letting go of her to press his palm against his cheek.
She hurried away, running as fast as she could towards the castle, knowing he’d be close behind.
She was right. She’d only gotten halfway to the castle when she was yanked by her wrist to a halt.
“Don’t you ever slap me again,” he snarled, his voice venomous as a serpent bite.
“Or what?” she sneered. “Going to knock me off my broom?”
She could feel his fingernails biting into her skin as they warred with their eyes, each dark with anger and rage.
Suddenly, he pulled on her wrist enough to send her colliding into him, and used his other hand to push her neck to lift her head towards his. His lips slammed into hers. Her cry of surprise and outrage was muffled as she fought him, trying to push him away, only to have his forearms effectively stopping her.
She stared at his closed eyes, still struggling. Katie wondered what the hell had come over him. Damn, if he wanted to rape her, he didn’t have to do it with kissing, did he?
At the thought, she concentrated on the kiss. It was too rough, and his tongue tried to gain access too quickly, but his lips were soft to even out the roughness that he was pushing at her.
She didn’t respond, she made sure she didn’t, and when she could, she turned her head away. She didn’t lie it on his chest, she just looked the other way.
“Why did you do that?” she asked finally, surprised, and happy, to find that her voice was calm and even, and not a hint of her anger showed.
“Because you deserved it.”
“Is that the only reason, because if it is,” she warned, “You’re going to have a hell of a time on the Quidditch field.”
“I wanted to,” he said simply.
“Fine,” she muttered. “If you’ll let me go...”
He ignored her for a moment or two longer, then let her go swiftly, as if he remembered who he was touching.
She walked about fifty feet away before giving him a farewell taunt. “You know,” she said. “Your kissing sucks.” With a saucy grin, she hurried up to the castle.
She looked at the picture that usually remained tucked in her bodice. It was crinkled, and yellow, but he still snarled into whose ever’s eyes who stared into his. She’d not seen him in five years, and their farewell hadn’t been sweet at all. They were destined to hate each other, something they both knew was expected, but neither could force themselves to make themselves do so.
Especially after that night. She shook her head, trying to clear her head of the too-rough first kiss, the feel of his Quidditch roughened hands on her arse, that had felt so disgusting at the time, the way she’d watched his closed eyes and once he’d finally stopped, how she’d laughed at him. That had been what had really started it. It had almost been like a challenge to make her like his kissing.
It had taken awhile, but he finally succeeded.
And then he’d kissed her farewell, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip, damp from their kissing.
”Where are you going?” she demanded.
“The Dark Lord is trying to get me to join his forces. I have to go to into hiding.”
“Will you tell me where you are?” she asked, being angry to hide her fear of him being found
“No.”
Then he pressed his lips against her, pulling her close to him, almost lifting her from the ground from the force of his hands splayed across the small of her back.
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” she whispered, her ear against his chest, listening to the quick thump thump thump of his heart.
“Why, Bell,” he teased, a smile in his voice. “I didn’t know you cared.”
Realizing she had given herself away, she shoved him roughly. “I don’t,” she said, trying to convince herself as much as he.
“Right,” he replied, unconvinced. “See you around, Bell.” And then he chucked her under the chin like she was a child and walked off towards the castle.
“Katie.” She turned around to see Hermione staring at her. She crumpled the photo in her hand hurriedly, worried it would be ruined, but more worried that it would be seen.
“Yes, Hermione?” she asked after clearing her throat.
“We’ve got a mission.” That was all that needed to be said before Katie hurried to get her cloak and broom. When she went down the kitchen, Harry, Hermione, the twins, Ron, Kingsley, and the rest of the Order were crowded around the table, all had their hands leaned on the table, looking down at a map or paper.
“What’s the mission?” Katie asked hurriedly, throwing her cloak around her shoulders and buttoning it at the neck.
“Voldemort’s been spotted a little North of the Indian ocean, about five hundred miles from Africa,” Harry said. He looked at his watch. “About an hour or two ago. Source says that he had some of his little friends with him.”
“Any idea who?” She looked over Hermione’s shoulder, seeing the old map, watching as trains moved, planes flew over landscapes, and vehicles droves through the streets.
“Lucius Malfoy, Pansy and Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Bellatrix Lastrange-“ a sympathetic look was shot at Neville “-Rodopolus, Wormtail, of course, and there was one other that wasn’t identified.”
“My mission?”
“Just a scout right now,” Kingsley said. “We’re not making any moves until we know what the lunatic’s up to. You’ll Apparate with your broom to a small café about two miles from where he was spotted. By now, he’ll probably be at least five miles away. We’re guessing he’s going here-“ Kingsley pointed to a small picture of a manor. “We don’t know why though. Bellatrix was there maybe twenty minutes before he arrived.”
“Alright,” Katie said.
“And take care,” Harry warned. “We don’t really know this area. Or what Voldemort’s doing.”
“I will.” And with that, she Apparated.
Katie was surprised to find that her Apparation had brought her to a Muggle area. The café that Harry had been talking about was a small outdoor one, right outside a small market.
Katie walked through the small market, trying to ignore the stares of Muggles watching her. She could understand, however, if she was as ignorant as they were.
She pretended to be interested in the various items that were placed in the small stands. Vegetables and fruits gave the market a smell that was too sweet. Katie smiled politely as one after another, a merchant shoved an article of clothing or jewelry towards her, explaining its expense and the value. She kindly told the merchants that she wasn’t buying anything today, but thank you.
She kept walking through the small market, and almost sighed in relief when she reached the end of it. It meant she could hurry along without worrying about being watched curiously by the suspicious Muggles.
Once she was out of sight, she cast a spell on herself so she’d not been seen. Katie mounted her broom and flew up into the cloudy sky.
Trees covered the ground, and she hadn’t noticed just how many there was when she’d been on firm ground.
Kate groaned. How was she supposed to spot Voldemort through all of that mess? How she wished for something to see through things with. She zoomed closer to the trees, heading towards the manor that the Order had told her about.
When she came to it, she lowered herself back to the ground, cautiously looking around.
Seeing no one, she hurried towards the manor and