Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Aaron, Lateria, and Jacey are mine though.
Author's Note: Marcus is a Death Eater. What happens?
Death By Wizard
Marcus Flint stood with his arms crossed over his chest at the entrance to a pitch he never thought he'd stand at. He watched the figured in the air circle around and then his children playing with the man's kids he'd never spoken to in school. It had all changed when that man married his sister's best friend.
Marcus pulled his sleeves down over the Dark Mark and approached the man when he landed on the ground. Harry Potter stretched his arms as a dark haired girl with her long hair in two French braids joked around with the other men on the team. Must suck to be the only girl.
"Hey, Flint," Harry said as Marcus approached him. He shrugged.
"I have a question," he said, re-crossing his arms. Harry shrugged.
"Okay, what is it?"
"It's about Aaron."
"What about him?"
"Any idea where he is?"
"Last time I checked, Flint, the two of you didn't get along," Harry said, giving him a look. Marcus looked across the pitch at where the rest of the team was taking a break.
"I just need to know, Potter," he said finally and sighed. He waved Harry off. "You know what? Never mind."
"He's probably at Lateria's store," Harry said as Marcus walked away. He nodded at Harry and Disapparated on the spot.
He stared at the dark shop on Knocturn Alley. It was probably the one in the best condition. The steps weren't broke, the door intact, and the sign hung straight. There was an open sign on the door and he could see about half a dozen people through the dirty class. A blonde boy leaned on the counter that a blonde girl stood behind.
Marcus pushed open the door and nodded in greeting at the witch standing there. She pursued her chapped lips and pointed a crooked finger at him.
"Don't bring no unneeded nonsense here," she said in a cackling voice. Marcus ignored her and walked up to the blonde boy. He put his hands on the sixteen-year-olds shoulder and enjoyed seeing him jump.
"Hey...Flint," Aaron said, turning. Marcus nodded at Lateria.
"You have the papers?" he asked him. Aaron rummaged in his jean pockets and handed over two slim pieces of paper with neat cursive writing on them.
"I don't see why you bow to him," Aaron said, crossing his arms over his chest, his muscles bulging.
"Because unlike you, I've made mistakes that I need to resolve and get back on his good side," Marcus replied, tucking the papers into his robes. Aaron shrugged.
"Whatever," he said. Marcus shook his head and left the shop.
He walked up to the small cottage and let himself in. The red haired girl sat on the couch with her head in her hands. He pulled off his robes and sat down next to her.
"What's wrong?" he asked, taking her into his arms. She shook her head.
"I'm a bad person," Jacey whispered. "I messed up and...he's going to kill me, Marcus! I don't want to die."
"No one's going to hurt you," he whispered and kissed her hair. "I promise." She pulled back and looked at her.
"Swear?" she asked, her eyes hopeful and tear brimmed.
"I swear," he said. She kissed his lips and he held her.
The next morning, Jacey Roberts was found dead at home and the last person to see her had been Marcus Flint. He had gone to spend ten years in Azkaban.
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