And CHAPTER FOUR IS UP! Before I get into the boring part of my opening scrawl, I just want to take a moment to say THANK YOU to thatkindofgreen, johnsocz, and Aphrodite-Venus-u.k for their favorites, follows, and reviews. It means so much to me, thank you again! Now for the disclaimer, I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. That being said, this is a short chapter in comparison to the first three, but there will be another chapter up soon. I also have posted a companion piece titled Career Fears that explores some of the ideas in this chapter. As always, Read, Review, and Enjoy!
-Line Break-
Marcus Flint had been surprised to see the headline of the Daily Profit on Monday. Well, not surprised at the headline, Rita Skeeter was always writing something scandalous He was more surprised at the photo that went with the article (and really, could Rita not find a better picture?). Despite the poor quality every time picture Oliver leaned in and kissed the other boy, Marcus could feel his guts squirm with regret. Because the picture was proof that perhaps if Marcus had not been the total jerk that he was back at Hogwarts, he might have had a chance with his long time crush. Not a huge chance, mind, more of a shadow of a ghost sort of thing, but a chance none the less.
Now Marcus will be the first one to admit that he is rubbish with spoken words, there is a reason he became a journalist. You get to plan out your questions ahead of time, and have time after to work on the best phrasing for an article. Looking back, trying to beat Oliver to a pulp every time he saw him was definitely not a good way of communicating his feelings to the keeper. But Marcus had been young, confused, and probably concussed at the time. Between these competing circumstances somewhere along the line feelings got mixed up and clouded by peer pressure. Words were hard so Marcus did the easy thing, he took out his confusion with his fists and on the Quidditch pitch. Yah, Marcus can admit that he pretty well screwed over any chance he might have had at the time.
So Marcus got to go through his monday filled with an underlying sense of regret, resigned to put his longtime crush out of mind until he could get a drink after work. That plan went up in smoke around twelve when word came that Wood had been tossed from Puddlemere and signed to a different team all in the same day. Now that was a surprise. Marcus remembered how good Wood was back at school, and last that he had heard, Oliver was still that good on the pitch. But the true shock and surprise came at eleven that night in the form of a letter tied to the leg of an owl.
It was the constant tapping that had woken him up. Groggily, Marcus sat up and peered through the darkness at his window where he could see a white owl waiting for entrance. Lighting his wand Marcus got up and let the bird in, untied the letter from the owl's leg and carried it over to a bird cage in the corner of the room. Marcus himself did not have a bird, but he got so many letters that it was simply easier to clean up a cage than the floor.
Sitting back down on the bed, Marcus opened the letter.
Hey ya Flint, the letter began and Marcus knew instantly who had sent it to him. Lee Anne was a nice girl. She was strange, yes, prone to losing fingers, but nice.
How are you? I suppose that you have probably heard the news about Wood. About how he was caned from Puddlemere and signed with another team. I know word has not yet got out about which team he signed with, so I'm telling you: he signed with The Badgers.
How Helga talked him into it, I do not know, but she did. I was wondering if you could do me a solid. We need to do an interview with Wood ASAP, and I was hoping you would be up to the job. Say tomorrow at one?
It would mean a lot to me, and frankly neither Wood nor I trust The Profit to give him an interviewer other than Skeeter Bug after that rag she wrote today. To be honest, I don't trust her period.
Let me know as soon as you can.
Lots of love,
Lee Anne
Setting the letter down, Marcus sighed. There was no point in responding. Lee knew that he would be there for the interview, her asking was more of a formality than anything else. Getting up once more from his bed, Marcus made his way over to the writing desk on the other side of the bedroom and pulled out a sheet of parchment. While Lee may not need a response, his boss would need a reason for his being out of the office the next day. Walking over to the bird cage, Marcus held his arm out for the white owl and tied the letter to its outstretched leg.
"This letter goes to Jacob Ire, then you fly on back to Lee, alright? I don't want to get yelled at for losing her bird again." The owl gave a hoot in response and flew out the window. Climbing back into bed, Marcus gave another sigh. Pull yourself together Flint. It's just a crush.