A/N: I'm excited to write the next chapter - expect a twist in the plot that will completely change the entire story! By the way, thank you so much for the reviews. I don't know the proper etiquette to replying to them, but I'd like you all to know that I really appreciate all of your comments. Please continue to support/motivate me by leaving a review if you've the time! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: None of the characters depicted in this fanfic (except Clarice, Francois, and Sophie) belong to me - they are all products of J.K. Rowling's imagination.

LEAVE LOVE TO FATE

Marcus stared out the window blankly, completely ignoring the stares and whispers of the other occupants of the café.

"You okay?" François asked gently.

"I'm fine."

"Really?" his long-time friend asked skeptically.

"What do you think?" Marcus retorted, clenching and unclenching his fingers.

"I think you need a drink," François replied dryly.

Marcus laughed a bit hollowly, "Isn't it a bit early in the day for alcohol?"

"Nah," François shook his head, "Besides, I think you need it."

"Sophie," François said loudly.

Sophie jolted away from the counter she was leaning against in surprise, "Yes?"

"We're going back to my flat, I'll see you later."

Sophie made a face at her brother, "Fine."

"Thanks," François nodded at her, then turned to Marcus, "Come on."

Marcus pulled himself out of the chair resignedly.

The two of them apparated to François' flat in silence. Marcus leaned against the door as François rummaged for his keys.

"What do you feel like drinking?"

"I don't care."

François frowned at Marcus' tone, "Okay, I'm calling Montague over."

"No!" Marcus grabbed at his friend's forearm, "Don't call him."

François scrutinized Marcus' expression, "You know you're being an asshole, right?"

"Screw that," Marcus glared at François, his anger flaring again as he threw his feet onto François' coffee table.

"Thanks," François said dryly, pulling a bottle of wine out of his wine cooler.

"I know I'm a bastard. Deal with it," Marcus ranted as he grabbed for a glass of wine.

"That you are," François said mildly, "Sorry to say, but you've got to really fix your priorities."

Marcus glared at François from under his eyebrows as he sloshed the wine around in its glass.

"That's no way to treat a decent wine," François rolled his eyes at his friend's temper.

"Yeah, yeah," Marcus muttered, but he put the glass down and removed his feet from the tabletop.

François sighed loudly, "You're a right idiot sometimes."

Marcus grimaced at him, "Shut the hell up."

"Fine," François replied coolly, running out of patience, "Be that way."

"Wait," Marcus said tiredly before François left the room, "Wait, I'm sorry."

François paused, and looked at his deflated friend, hunched over his glass of wine. "You've got to do something about that temper of yours."

"I'm sorry," Marcus repeated.

"It's okay," François let out his breath loudly, "I heard about your mum, I understand. But you can't take it out on everyone around you. They might be your friends, but if you keep hurting them …"

Marcus raised his eyes to the ceiling, "I know, I know"

François laughed at his friend's tone.

Marcus sighed, "I really messed up, huh."

"Yeah," François nodded as he moved to perch on the seat beside Marcus.

"I didn't mean to be so bloody offensive … I was just …" Marcus looked at his hands as though they were unfamiliar to him.

"Just frustrated?" François suggested when Marcus failed to come up with a word.

"Jealous, and confused," Marcus blurted.

"Care to tell me what about?" François asked, calmly draining the dredges of his wine glass.

"I mean, I felt so bad seeing her rush away like that," Marcus said incomprehensibly.

"I can understand that," François nodded, using his wand to refill his glass.

"But I mean, she's not even my girlfriend. And Merlin, Clarice …" Marcus' voice trailed off, "What am I supposed to tell Clarice?"

"Why's there any need to tell her anything?" François questioned him, "It's not like you slept with her, Marcus."

"True, but I –," Marcus stopped. Why did he feel like he'd somehow betrayed Clarice?

"You've got more pressing issues," François said sternly, "What about Katie?"

"I don't know," Marcus' shoulders slumped, "I have no idea right now. Should I even try to apologize? It's not like she's my girlfriend or anything like that. I've got Clarice, and that's all I should need."

"Ah," François smiled lightly, "Should. That's the word. Clarice is all you SHOULD need."

Marcus scowled, "What's with all of you and harping on my fiancée?"

"I'm sure she's lovely," François hurriedly backtracked, "But don't your feelings for Katie show that perhaps you might not be in love with Clarice?"

Marcus laughed derisively, "Marriage isn't about love, Francois. That's just a French notion. Marriage has never been about love."

"That's where you're wrong," François replied, choosing to ignore his slur against his nationality.

"Huh," Marcus snorted into his wine glass.

"Really, Marcus," François said, suddenly impatient, "Please, for once let some sense enter that hard head of yours. You have feelings for Katie Bell, you've none for Clarice Beaumont. Either go with Katie, or forget her completely. As things are, you're hurting both of them."

Marcus ruminated, holding his glass up to the light, watching the droplets glitter.

"What've you decided?" François asked, noticing the change in his friend's expression.

Marcus turned to meet his eyes, "I'm engaged to Clarice, I'm hurting Bell … the answer's obvious isn't it?"

François wanted to punch him resoundingly. That was not the choice he had intended for Marcus to make when he had lectured him. He sighed at Marcus' determined expression.

"Thanks for your help, François. Great wine, by the way," Marcus picked up his jacket and slung it over his shoulder.

"Thanks," François leaned against the doorway, "You sure about your decision?"

Marcus stopped, indecision crossing his face, "Yeah, yeah I am."

François sighed as he softly closed the door behind his friend. Hopefully he knew what he was doing.

Katie ran blindly, disgusted with herself for running away two days in a row. She ran on and on, not even realizing that she could disappear with the flick of her wand. Ignoring the angry outbursts of the pedestrians who swarmed the sidewalks, Katie rushed through the streets of Paris.

How dare he. How dare he! Katie's chest felt like a knot of mortification and hurt.

She ran into a park, collapsing by a fountain, her throat choked up.

She didn't care that the passer-bys were shooting fretful looks at her. All she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and forget that men even existed.

Katie sobbed for what felt like ages. It felt good, relieving herself. She had never really been able to cry after The Incident. Once she felt the tears subside, she blearily looked at the clock tower in the distance.

Upon realizing it was almost noon, a sense of dread slid over her. She did not want to see Marcus again. Ever. And yet she had to return to Montague's mansion, where he could be at this very moment.

She sighed resignedly, and wiped her eyes on the backs of her hands. Her friends were more important than anything, and damn if she was going to do something just because of Marcus. Her gaze hardened as she apparated.

"Katie!" Alicia burst out when she saw Katie walk into the sitting room in Montague's mansion.

Katie felt a wave of relief wash over her when she realized Marcus was not at Montague's mansion. She hurried through the halls into a sitting room where she saw Angelina, Alicia, and Montague sitting rather pleasantly together without bickering. Montague even seemed to be smiling. Of course, this was all before they caught sight of Katie's tear-stained face.

"What happened?" Angelina asked, wincing as she moved to get off of the plush seat.

"Still have a hangover, Angie?"

"Yes," Angelina grimaced, "But that's not the point. What happened to you?"

"Nothing."

Montague grimaced mentally. François had updated him on what had occurred in Paris, but he hadn't expected Katie to look almost as bad as after her encounter with Wood the day before. Marcus was such an idiot.

"I'm fine," Katie shrugged off her friends' concern.

Alicia and Angelina exchanged a look. Obviously there would be no fun salon day as they had planned earlier.

"No, really," Katie insisted, seeing their incredulous expressions.

Montague scrutinized Katie's expression. "Spinnet, Johnson, can I talk to Bell for a minute alone?"

Before Angelina could protest, Alicia nodded, grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room.

Marcus waited until the mahogany doors closed before speaking. "What did Marcus do this time?"

"Nothing," Katie said dully, feeling ill at ease at being alone in a room with Montague after what Marcus had insinuated. She couldn't even look him in the eyes.

"Really?" Montague asked skeptically, crossing the room to stand in front of her.

"Yes," Katie mumbled, staring out the window behind him.

"Oh come on, Bell," Montague frowned, "Marcus and you were missing in the early morning, now you're in tears. It's obvious something happened."

"Really," Katie insisted, "He just said the usual. I'm just feeling sensitive because of yesterday."

Montague rolled his eyes at her stubborn refusal to disclose what had happened between the two of them, but didn't say anything, choosing instead to examine her expression in silence.

It was Katie who broke the silence. "Why did you tell him?"

Montague started at her sudden question, "Why did I tell him what?"

"About me and Oliver."

"He asked," Montague replied simply.

"I thought it was something you were going to keep to yourself," Katie said accusingly.

"I didn't tell him what happened, just that you and Wood had a spat," Montague said, pulling out a cigarette.

"Oh, stop smoking," Katie said in annoyance.

Montague rolled his eyes but stowed the unlit cigarette away, "Just forget about him, Bell."

"Just forgive and forget?" Katie asked incredulously, "You don't even know what he said to me."

"Oh I think I've got a pretty good idea," Montague replied dryly.

"I'd like to just forget about him, but the universe seems to be against me. He shows up everywhere I see him."

"I doubt that'll happen anymore," Montague said stiffly, thinking of Marcus' decision.

"Really," Katie replied crossly, "And how can you be so sure of that?"

Katie was more than a little annoyed with Montague for giving Marcus the fuel to insult her. She felt hurt, especially since she had genuinely trusted him. Of course, she thought bitterly, she should've expected them to be chummier with one another than with her, a despised Gryffindor.

"I just am," Montague said, shooting her a pained look, "Look, I know Marcus was a complete arse and Merlin, I can only guess what he said to piss you off so much, but take my word when I say to just forget about Marcus. Go back to living your own life, forget about everything."

"Fine," Katie said, her gaze hard, "I will. Let's just forget that this truce between us ever existed."

Montague stared after her as she stomped out of the room, whipping the door open, and slamming it with a resounding bang.

"Let's go," Katie grabbed her alarmed friends' arms.

"Wait," Alicia stumbled to keep up with Katie's pace, "What happened?"

"Nothing," Katie growled, gesticulating with her wand sharply.

Angelina frowned at Katie in concern. Her emotions had been completely haywire over the past few days.

"I'll see you back at my flat," Katie scowled as she disapparated away, leaving her two friends behind, feeling more alone than she had in a long time.