Reasons

Marcus Flint

"Marcus Flint, you absolute dolt."

Marcus lifted his head from his dinner. "Wha?" he asked through a mouthful of pork.

Olivia Shardlow flung herself down next to him. "Oh, don't play dumb." She whipped out a flyer. "What the hell is this?" She shook it in front of his face. "What the hell is this?"

He took it from her hands and gave a massive swallow. "I dunno what it is, do I, you keep moving it!" He gave her an eye roll and set the flyer on the table. "It's the results of the Quidditch tryouts," he said once he'd given it a good once-over.

"Exactly."

"So?" He shoveled a spoonful of potatoes into his mouth. "Wha's the pwoblem?"

Olivia slammed her fist down on the table. "I'm not on it."

"Oh." Marcus swallowed and shrugged. "Yeah, you didn't make the cut. I'm sorry. Try again next year."

"Oh, no, Flint, that's not why I'm upset."

"Then what the hell's the problem, woman?"

Olivia's dark eyes flashed. "There are no females on this list."

"None of 'em made the - "

"Oh, and Vincent Crabbe did?" She jabbed her finger at the name scrawled under Beater. "Vincent bloody Crabbe beat me out?"

"He's stronger than you. Please go away."

She yanked his plate off the table and threw it across the room. It spun through the air for a fraction of a second before colliding with a pillar near the Gryffindor table and shattering into smithereens. "I'd say that was pretty strong," she said icily.

The entire Great Hall was silent.

"Good aim, too," she added. "Did you see it swerve between the heads of those two Weasleys?"

"Miss Shardlow, is there a problem?" asked Professor Snape.

"Marcus Flint is a sexist pig, that's the problem," she replied.

"Am not!" Marcus stood. "Sir, she's just sore because I didn't put her on the Quidditch team."

"No, Professor, I'm not." She yanked the flyer out of Marcus' hands and passed it to Snape. "Seven girls tried out for the team this year. Seven. I can give you names if you want. And all of us are damn good fliers. Yet this idiot chose Vincent Crabbe over all of us, just because we're female."

"I did not!" Marcus insisted.

"What, Flint, you're telling me Crabbe's better at Quidditch than I am?"

"I - yeah, I am!"

"Oh, really? Because I have six witnesses who can tell you I outflew him at the tryouts, and - "

"Miss Shardlow," Snape drawled, "calm down."

Olivia closed her mouth, but she didn't stop glaring at Marcus.

"Mr. Flint. Did Miss Shardlow fly better than Mr. Crabbe in the tryouts?"

"Well, yeah, but - "

"You see!" Olivia cried. "Make him put me on the team!"

"I have a reason!" Marcus said. "And if you'd let me get a word out, I could explain!"

"Go ahead, Mr. Flint," Snape said. "We're listening."

He took a breath. "Thank you." He wrested the flyer out of Olivia's hands. "I put together a team that not only has exceptional fliers, but also represents Slytherin's core values."

"Oh, and I suppose I don't possess any of Slytherin's core - "

"Shut your face, will you, Olivia?"

"Miss Shardlow," Snape said. "If you please."

"Thanks, Professor Snape. So yeah, I don't believe Olivia represents Slytherin very well. And her friends are all terrible at Quidditch, so I didn't put them on the team for that reason."

"You think Sadie Baldock is bad at Quidditch?" Olivia burst. "You think Imogen Stretton is bad at Quidditch? They both did just as well as I did at the tryout. We all made five out of five goals. We can all catch a Quaffle. And we can all hold our own with Beater's bats."

"Well, yeah," Marcus admitted, "but the three of you are mudbloods, so - "

"What?" Olivia cried, and to her surprise, Professor Snape looked just as horrified as she felt.

"Don't get me wrong, you're good at Quidditch," Marcus said, hands held up in surrender. "But I can't have mudbloods on my team. What would people say?"

"What makes you think," Olivia hissed, "that I am a mudblood?"

He looked confused. "Didn't you study in the library with Gryffindor Granger once?"

"Yes."

"Well, there you go." He shrugged. "Mudbloods only associate with other mudbloods."

"Flint," Snape snapped. "Do not let me hear you using that word again."

"I am going to say this very slowly, so you understand," Olivia said to Marcus. "I have two very magical parents. Hermione Granger is smart, and I study with her so I can get good grades."

"Doesn't matter. We have a reputation to uphold, and I can't have you spoiling it."

Olivia curled her hands into fists. "What if I spoil your face, Marcus, what then?"

Marcus looked up at Snape. "Professor," he began.

"Let her on the team," Snape said.

Marcus felt his jaw drop. "What?"

"You heard me, Flint. If you wish to keep your Captain status, you will let her on the team."

Olivia sent him a satisfied smirk.

"But, Professor - "

"If she flew well, you let her on the team. I will not see the Quidditch Cup go to the Gryffindors because you are too stubborn to let in the decent fliers."

Olivia's smirk grew into a genuine smile. "Thank you, Professor Snape."

"Slytherin values say that only purebloods - "

"She is a pureblood, Flint."

Marcus looked frustrated. "But in the past, we've always had all-male teams! Please, Professor, it's been a tradition ever since I've been at Hogwarts!"

"Traditions change," was all Snape said before he swept back up to the staff table.

"Happy?" Marcus said glumly as Olivia sat down next to him.

"Extremely." She helped herself to a spoonful of potatoes. "Pass the butter?"

He reached across the table and dropped the butter unceremoniously in front of her.

"Oh, don't look so upset," she snapped. "Think of it this way, now we get to spend more time together." She leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I do miss spending time with you, sweetheart."

Marcus grunted.

"You'll be fine," she insisted. "The team is going to do well this year, you'll see."

"Not that," he said. "You threw my dinner across the room."

"Oh. Here." She passed him her plate. "Better?"

He nodded, a faint smile on his face, and leaned in to peck her on the lips. "I love you," he said, digging into the mashed potatoes.

"I love you, too, darling."

"Even though you're a mudblood."

She closed her eyes. "Marcus. I'm a pureblood. Honestly, you are not allowed to be that much of an idiot. Where did you learn to be so dumb? Did you take a Bludger to the head?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. At some point, probably, yeah. Pass me some more pork, will you?"

Olivia sighed as she loaded his plate with pork. "Sometimes I don't know what I see in you." She passed the plate back. "Happy four-year anniversary, by the way."

"Yeah." He gave her a food-filled grin. "You, too."

[Tien Len Competition: Eight of Hearts - Marcus Flint, reason, "Don't play dumb.", "The world hates change, yet it is the only thing that has brought progress."- Charles Kettering]

[Disney Character Competition: Mulan - write about someone overcoming gender issues. Prompt: Wrath]

[Fiddler on the Roof Song Challenge: Miracle of Miracles - write about a broken tradition.]

[Fiddler on the Roof Character Challenge: Motel - write about someone longing for the achievable.]

[100 Prompts: "You are not allowed to be that much of an idiot."]

[Relationship Bingo Board Challenge: E3 - Love/Hate]